You Are Everything I Never Knew I Always Wanted
by Puca
Summary: Logan and Rory are best friends since the days of Yale and although an ocean is separating them, they keep in touch. What would happen if one of them would cross that ocean, bringing their worlds a lot closer? Rogan ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**An: Dear readers, as you know I was unbelievably stuck on this story. And I finally worked it out… yet this means that the first chapter suddenly isn't the first chapter anymore. What you see below is the first chapter of this story. A rewritten version of "New York, beware.." will be posted in matter of days. I'm sorry to confuse you… I confuse myself… hahahaha, but believe me it makes sense in my head. So in a few days this chapter will be moved to chapter one and "New York, beware" to chapter 2 and chapter 3 will follow in a normal fashion… I apologize. Please bare with me. :) read and review… hope you like it. **

**P.S. I did change the girls name :) Celie has become Louisa ... Lou for short. **

**Eva**

**Disclaimer: Do not own Gilmore Girls. **

**Chapter 1. _An ocean apart_ **

**London, De Vere Gardens, Kensington, 7a.m.**

"Daddy."

"…"

"Dad."

"…"

"DAD!"

"Huh? What?" Logan opened one eye and looked at the black-eyed girl standing next to his bed.

"I'm going to be late!" she stated putting her hands in her sides and tapping with her foot, like her mother used to do.

"It's Saturday, kid. No school."

She rolled her big dark eyes.

"Ballet class!"

"Ballet class…" Logan sighed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"You promised to take me, today." She pouted.

"I did…?"

"You forgot!" she gasped.

"No I didn't. I'm going to be there in a minute." He said closing his eyes again. Her tiny hands started shaking him and he growled.

"Louisa, let daddy sleep. Your ballet class isn't until 10."

"I need to prepare!"

"For what?" he asked exasperated.

"My ballet class. You have to braid my hair and…"

_Oh good Samaritan, _he thought.

"Ask Izzy."

"Izzysss' day off." She lisped slightly.

"I'm tired." Logan sighed.

"You should go to bed earlier." The seven-year-old stated.

"Hey! You can not tell daddy what to do, till you have as many teeth as he does." She showed him her teeth or lack there off.

"Exactly my point." His head was hurting due to lack of night rest, but there was just no ignoring the little person in the room.

"Fine, fine, don't get your knickers in a bunch. Dad is up." He slung his legs over the edge of the bed, putting on his glasses.

"I'm going to take a shower. You…"

"Make coffee. I know. Now, you go! Vite, vite!" she waved with her hand in the direction of the bathroom.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked.

"What?" she asked looking innocently at him.

"French."

"Izzy," she shrugged.

_Great. It's 7 a.m. on a Saturday and my daughter is ordering me around in Frenchgoo, _He thought padding to the bathroom, hitting his toe against a chair.

"Lou!" he yelled.

"Yeah!" her muffled response reached him.

"Make it a double espresso!"

**New York, East 84th street, noon**

"Morning! Or better good afternoon!"

Rory grunted.

"Rise and shine!"

"I'm not home!" she exclaimed.

"Come on. It's a beautiful day and you've already slept through half of it."

Rory opened one eye, looking at her smiling boyfriend.

"You are evil. I worked till midnight yesterday. I had my dinner at 1 a.m."

"I have to work at 5. So come out of bed and give me some attention." Rory buried her head under her pillow.

"Come on… I brought coffee…"

"Fine! I'm UP!" She got out of bed putting on her pink robe and padding to Peter to give him a kiss.

"Where is my coffee?" she asked.

"And I kept thinking it was me you loved."

"Hey behind every successful woman is a substantial amount of coffee. Doesn't mean I don't love. It means I have to prioritize." Peter grinned.

"Kitchen." She passed by him.

"OH MY GOD!" he heard and flinched. "PETER!"

"Yes…?" he tried sweetly.

"Don't you YES me! Decaf is the devils blend!" she was standing in the kitchen. Her hair sticking out in every direction!

"You are just drinking way too much coffee. As a doctor I think…!"

"Don't finish that sentence!"

"But.."

"And don't but me!" She downed the contents of the cup through the sink. "I am drinking my coffee with caffeine!"

"Sorry…" Peter raised his hands in defense. "It's just not healthy."

Rory started the coffeemaker.

"Says the man who smokes!"

"Fine, fine! You win! What are we going to do today?"

"Mmmmm… I wanted to go to Stars Hollow… haven't seen my mom in ages."

"I thought we would spend the day together…" he said.

"Well come with me."

"I have to be at the hospital at 5."

"PM?"

"AM…"

"Oh… well we can drive back tonight." She offered.

"Then we will be driving longer than spending time there."

"Peter… please?" she pouted batting her eyelashes.

He sighed.

"Fine…. Get dressed already!"

**Mortimer Hall, The Debra Bradnum Ballet School , London, 10 a.m.**

Logan followed the bouncy girl into the ballet school. Her pink skirt dancing around her legs.

"Now, daddy, you can't go in there with me." She said once inside.

"I can't…"

"No, parents wait in the lounge."

"Huh… ok."

"Well Go!"

"I'm going, Jeez, pushy are we? Break a leg!" he yelled after her. A dozen shocked parents stared at him.

"What? It's a figure of speech… an idiom. I didn't mean for her to really break her leg."

Still the staring. It made him nervous. They were like a pack of wolves.

He entered the lounge and was met by ten pairs of women eyes.

"Morning." He greeted, taking off his leather jacket and sitting down on a chair.

"Morning," the women sang in unison.

Christ, he thought, so there is a reason why I avoid places like this. Hartford suddenly wasn't an ocean away anymore. _Ladies… do not look at me like you are going to eat me._

He got up… and walked to the coffeemaker.

"So by whom are you taken?" one of them asked.

"Excuse me?"

"The little girls… Which one is yours?"

"Oh.. Lou. Short, pink dress, big eyes, long hear."

"Louisa Huntzberger?"

"Guilty…"

The ballet moms giggled.

"So you are…" another one asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Logan Huntzberger."

"Awwwww…" The yelled all at once.

Logan knew he had charm… but he started to get scared of sexual harassment.

_Why did I leave my ring at home? Why? Why? Why did I chose today to leave it off?_

"She is cute as a button."

"That she is." God, weren't they married?

His cell phone rang and he thanked God, Josef and his camel for this save.

"Ladies, I have to take this one," he excused himself and fled to the cloakroom, that resembled a big closet.

"Hello?"

"_Logan… what a surprise, you are up."_

"Yes, dad." He couldn't remember the last time he was over the moon that his father called. "I'm up and about. Lou's ballet class."

"_How is my granddaughter?"_

"Alive and kicking."

"_Good."_

"Everything good at home?"

"_Funny that you call it that.."_

"What…?"

"_Home… you've been living in England for the past 8 years."_

"So… Is this about New York again?"

Mitchum Huntzberger chuckled.

"_Yes. Did you think about it?"_

Logan was silent for a while. He had.

"_Come on, Logan, what is holding you back?"_

"The paper?"

"_Don't bullshit me, son. You said yourself that Graham was ready and eager to take over."_

Logan sighed.

"It's Lou. She grew up here. It would be crude to take her away from the environment she knows. She was born here, raised her, buried her mother here. This is all she knows. She's so British that tea is running through her veins instead of blood."

Mitchum took a breath.

"_She is the daughter of an American and a Spanish woman, born in England. She's a cocktail! She has your blood running through her veins not … tea. Plus she's seven! She'll adapt everywhere. The US, Spain, Norway, the frikkin' North pole!"_

"Well there is an idea, dad…" Logan rolled his eyes.

"_I mean it Logan… Louisa…"_

"Needs a stable environment. Especially now. Her grandparents and aunts live in Spain. I can't put an ocean between them."

"_Well she has grandparents and aunts living here too. By God, buy a jet, but come home."_

"Well you sent me here in the first place."

"_For a year, not 8!"_

"Well I like England. And I like the British… Hell I adore Harry Potter! And the queen… Brittan has a queen. I can buy a jet, yet cannot buy a queen." He retorted with a heavy British accent.

"_You are impossible, you know that…" _

"I've heard once or twice…" he took a deep breath. "What is in New York?"

"_The NYDN… I need a new wind there… someone with balls who turns the place inside out. That paper has a name, but is getting rusty… The Post is catching us…"_

"Why don't you do it?"

"_Because… I need someone young… And I trust you with it. Of course you'll fly in first for negotiations… I don't expect less from you. You love New York, Logan, and deny it all you want, but you are itching to get your fingers in a paper like the Daily News."_

Logan sighed. Just then a stream of little girls in pink costumes filled the hallway and the cloakroom.

"Daddy!" Lou exclaimed. "Why are you in the closet?"

"Hiding…" he mouthed and she theatrically rolled her eyes.

"Dad, I'll call you back about this. Monday, first thing."

"_Fair enough."_ He hung up.

"Was that grandpa?" Lu asked pulling on her coat.

"Yup."

"Does he miss you?"

"I don't know…" Logan answered fixing her scarf.

"Do you miss him?" she asked tying her shoelaces.

"Not really…"

"Why not?" she asked again taking his hand, while they were walking towards the exit. "I miss you when you are away."

Logan smirked.

"I'm glad, Pinky."

"Daaaa-aaaad, stop calling me Pinky! I'm a woman now." She whined.

Logan rolled his eyes leading her out the door into the typical London autumn.

_**Stars Hollow, Luke's diner, 3p.m.**_

"And then Michel turned this shade of pinkish purple. I thought he was going to strangle him! That child is probably scarred for life! I mean traumatized! It will look upon the French people with fright!" Lorelai rambled.

Rory laughed.

"Shouldn't you fire him?" Peter asked, "He molested that child."

"He did not molest him he just made him pee his pants and that kid so had it coming!

Swinging on the lamp in the lounge! And me fire Michel? The Dragonfly wouldn't be the same again."

"Yes!" Rory added, "Michel is like old furniture."

"Yes… good ol' Michel… Baby! Coffee-refill!" Lorelai yelled waving her super sized cup.

"Ah…. Jeez! Don't call me that!" Luke groaned.

"Do you prefer: muffin oooor… sugarplum…or…smoochie poo. NO! Lady Bug! Perfect!"

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore Danes! You are soliciting for a divorce!"

Lorelai pouted.

"Mean lady bug!"

"I'm going to turn myself in!" Luke mumbled filling the cup of his wife till the rim, "Some nice institution with an ocean view…"

"So Rory, your birthday is coming up," Peter addressed her.

"It is… October 6th"

"Any plans…?"

"Well it's a Thursday and I have to work on Friday so I didn't have anything in mind. Friday I'm going to Stars Hollow… well we are…ok? I've always had a birthday here…"

"Sure, Peter smiled."

"What about I take you to dinner on Thursday then."

Rory smiled looking into his kind green eyes and nodded.

"I would love that."

"Good." He leaned in lightly kissing her on the lips.

"Oh knock it off you two!" Lorelai's voice chimed. "Didn't you hear… I'm getting divorced."

"Aw.. poor you." Rory hugged her mother. "Will I still have free coffee privileges?"

"I'll see what my divorce lawyer can do."

**Café des Amis, London, noon**

Logan watched his daughter carefully fish every olive out of her salad and dump them on his plate.

"Lou?"

"¿Podría ayudarse?"

He smiled.

"¿Habla usted inglés?"

"No, disculpame, no entiendo" She didn't miss a beat.

"Lou… I'm serious."

"Sorry."

"How would you feel about moving?"

"Moving where?" the girl asked stuffing a fork full of salad in her mouth.

"To New York…"

"That's in America." The girl remarked.

Logan nodded.

"You are an American."

He nodded again.

"Would we visit?"

"London? Of course, hon."

"What about grandma and grandpa?"

"Well you would still visit them too. I mean you're still going to Formentera on spring break."

"But school then?"

"Well they have good schools in New York too… ballet schools too." He added with a wink.

"And Vicky and Kate?"

"You can visit your friends during holidays… or they can come stay you. Plus you're a cool kid… you'll make new friends."

"But what about Hopscotch?"

"Well we can't leave him here, can we?" Logan laughed about her oversized grey bunny.

"But Hopscotch will miss London."

"I think Hopscotch doesn't really care where he is… as long as he's with you."

"And we can go visit uncle Finn and uncle Colin."

"Yes… we couldn't hide forever." He laughed. God, he missed those idiots.

"…And Rory."

"And Rory." He nodded. "So you wouldn't be upset if we moved in like 2 months?"

"I suppose it's ok…" She shrugged. "You like it there, don't you?"

Logan smiled.

"I love it there."

**New York, East 84th street, 11pm. **

Rory let herself fall on her bed. She was beat. After lunch with her mom in Stars Hollow and dropping off Peter at the hospital she met up with Stephanie and the two had visit an exhibit of Stephanie's October. The girl literally had a different man each month. Rory kicked off her shoes and smirked with a heavy sigh, when the phone rang. She rolled on her stomach reaching for the phone and nearly fell of the bed.

"'lo?" she tried to pull herself up grasping the comforter.

"_Ace! Caught you in a bad time?"_

"Logan. Hey! No!" With a thud her butt hit the ground.

"_What are you doing? I told you that yoga was not your thing._" She could practically see his smirk.

"Ha ha ha. I fell off the bed."

He laughed.

"_It sounded as if you fell off of Annapurna_."

Climbing on her bed again she installed herself in a pile of pillows.

"_So how have you been, Ace?"_

"I'm good. Tired, but good. Steph and I we went to this gallery. Her newest flame was the artist so…"

He laughed.

"_And?"_

"It were lumps of clay, faintly resembling lumps of clay."

"_That good, huh?"_ he laughed.

"Well the last guy she dated was a poet…"

**London, De Vere Gardens, Kensington, 8pm.**

Logan lay on his bed and laughed at Rory's stories about Stephanie's boyfriends, a cup of coffee steaming on the nightstand.

"Dad?" Lou asked from the dooropening.

"One sec." he told Rory and addressed his daughter.

"Can I watch tv here?" she asked.

"I'm on the phone, kiddo."

"Well I'll watch quietly." She reasoned. He sighed and motioned for her to come in.

She hopped on the bed and swiftly found the Disney channel.

"Sorry. Go on."

"_I can't remember what I was saying. Was that Lou?"_

"Yes… in the flesh… laying here, watching…" he glanced at the TV. " Impossible Kim."

"KIM IMPOSSIBLE!" she exclaimed laughing.

"…pardon me… As I was saying; impossible Kim."

"Daaaaaa-aaad!"

"Yes, Pinky..."

"_So how about you? Anything new?"_ Rory asked.

Logan smirked and leaned back against the pillows, playing with Lou's soft dark . He contemplated whether to tell her or not.

"No, same ol', same ol', Ace."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Do not own Gilmore Girls. **

**AN: So here is the 'slightly' rewritten version of what once was chapter 1. I hope you like it! Read & Review!**

**Oh yes a few explanatory additions: **

**- Rory and Logan were and are merely friends. **

**- He was married to Laura. She was killed in an car-accident. **

**- He has a seven year old girl, named Louisa. **

**I think this is it. :) if something isn't clear: just ask...:P**

**Chapter 2: _Happy Birthday!(_ _part I) _**

It was exactly 4.03 in the morning on a chilly October day, when Rory was brutally awakened by the phone.

"Hello?" she meekly answered.

"_Happy birthday, little girl! Well not so little anymore."_

"Mom…? Early… work in the morning…" Rory moaned at the sound of her mothers chirpy voice.

"_So hoe does it feel? 28? Regrets? Complaints?"_

"You calling…" she whined but had to smile at the tradition they had maintained for the past 28 years.

"_Shush you. So you know what I think?"_

"What?" Rory yawned.

"_I think you are a great, cool, successful woman and the best friend I could ever have."_

"Right back at ya, mom."

" _And it's so hard to believe that at exactly_ _this time many moons ago, I was also lying in a bed, only then in a hospital—"_

Rory sighed. "Oh, boy here we go."

"_I had a huge, fat stomach and big fat ankles and I was swearing like a sailor –"_ Lorelai continued.

"—on leave."

"_On leave! Exactly! And there I was –" _

"In labor…"

"_And while some have called it the most meaningful experience of your life, to me it was something more akin to doing the splits on a crate of dynamite. And I was screaming and swearing and being surrounded as I was by a hundred prominent doctors, I just assumed there was an actual use for the cup of ice chips they gave me."_

"There wasn't."

"_But pelting the nurses sure was fun." _

"I love you, Mom." Rory said crawling deeper in the warm bedspread.

"_I love you too. But you listen now. Because I'm getting to the part where he sees your head. So there I was... " _

* * *

Way too soon the morning was announced by the crowing of the roostershaped alarmclock and Rory let out a heavy Hmpf. 28. She seriously contemplated not getting up, getting dressed and going to work, when the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"_Rory! It's your grandmother! Your grandfather and I are wishing you a very happy birthday. _

"Hey, grandma. Thank you."

"_28! What a beautiful age. I take it that you are going to celebrate in Stars Hollow?"_

"Yes. Tomorrow. Today me and Peter are going out to dinner."

"_Oh that's nice dear." Emily cheered. "Why don't all of you come for dinner on Saturday?" _

"All of us?"

"_Yes. You, Peter, your mother…Luke."_ The last said with evident distaste.

Rory rolled her eyes after almost 7 years she still hadn't accepted Luke as the man her daughter loved.

"I'll talk about it with mom and let you know."

"_You do that, dear." _

Rory stifled a yawn.

"_I'm keeping you from work, aren't I?"_

"Just a little, grandma."

"_Well I'll talk to you soon. Have a nice day!"_

"Thank you. I will." She hung up and stretched.

With a sigh she slung her legs over the edge of the bed shivering and shuffled to the bathroom. She let the water run. It always took the poor thing a while to heat up. Shivering she sat down on the toilet and pulled her feet up, waiting and waiting. Steam was escaping the shower cabin and Rory jumped in savoring the warmth. She really needed to find herself a new apartment. This one was falling apart. Hot in the summer, cold in the winter… Noisy neighbors… Half the time no hot water… She let out a scream when the hot water turned ice cold and jumped out, all covered in soap.

"NOT ON MY BIRTHDAY, YOU STUPID THING!!!" she yelled fumbling to find a towel.

* * *

"Morning, Rory! Happy Birthday!" Her assistant flung herself at her as if Rory was the last melon and she a swarm of hungry dodo's on their mission to survive the Ice Age.

"Thank you, Anna." Rory laughed trying to balance a cup of coffee and her work while patting Anna on her back. She freed herself from her blue haired assistant and entered her small office. It was a complete dump… She really needed to clean up. What would Peter say? She sat down on her chair and turned on the computer. Folding her arms on her desk she put down her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the thing to start. A knock on the made her jump up.

"I was not asleep!"

"Delivery for Rory Gilmore?" a gum chewing guy with a huge red pimple on his nose was standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of white roses.

"Uhm.. yes. That's me." She said trying to steer her eyes away from the time bomb on the boys nose.

"Sign here."

Rory signed her name and accepted the flowers.

_I love you, birthday girl.  
xoxo Peter,_ the card said. Rory smiled. That was awfully sweet of him.

"Awwwww…." Anna came waltzing in with a vase. "When are you guys finally getting married?"

"I've only known the man for a year, Anna. Besides we like where it is now." Rory reasoned.

"So there are like a dozen messages…from people you work with… basically all saying…. Happy Birthday. Wanna read?"

Rory shook no.

"Wanna coffee?"

She glared at her assistant.

"Right… stupid question. I'll be right back."

Smelling the flowers she sat down again.

"Rory???" Anna stuck her head around the corner.

"Yes?"

"You better come here…"

"What? Why?"

"Just come"

With a sigh she followed her almost frolicking assistant into the lounge. She stopped dead in her tracks noticing 6 men dressed as Oompa Loompas in there. As on cue they started singing 'happy birthday'. Somewhere in that daze of singing Oompa Loompas, laughing people and cheering co-workers, she could hear her cell phone ringing.

"Hello?"

"_So I hear you got my present."_

"I did," with a smile she shook her head.

"_Happy Birthday, Ace."_

"Every year…" she started. "Every year you send me something ridiculous…"

"… Ace…"

"And I love it! It makes my day. Thank you."

He chuckled.

"I'm glad. Next year a stripping Oompa Loopa."

She laughed at her best friends antiques.

"Watch it, mister…"

"So 28. How does it feel? Any regrets, complaints?"

"God. You sound like my mother."

"I take that as a compliment. I'm sorry I can't chat for long. Meeting."

"That's ok. Thanks for remembering."

"As if I could forget, Ace. It would be like forgetting Christmas."

In the background Rory heard people talk. A voice she knew. Mitchum? She shook it off.

"Got to go, Ace. Have a good one."

"Yeah. Bye."

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CIRKUS?" the chief- editors voice boomed. The Oompa Loompas abruptly stopped singing.

"Mmm… Happy Birthday, miss." The tallest Oompa Loompa said. The other 5 nodded vigorously and made their escape.

The newsroom people slowly flowed out of the lounge leaving only Rory and Victor Keller, the chief editor of the New York Post.

"I'm sorry, mister Killer eh Keller. It was a birthday gift." Rory said moving towards the exit, "I think I hear Anna calling. Bye, sir." She practically ran back towards her office.  
That man scared her to death. That man scared her more than Mitchum Huntzberger on a crusade.

* * *

Rory ran up the stairs of her apartment building. Her lungs were on fire as she burst in to her apartment. She was late! She was so late for her date with Peter. Kicking the door shut she undid her coat. She opened her closet that resemble a toxic waste plant and tried to find a specific black dress. She wanted to look beautiful… She needed too look beautiful. Ah! There it was! She pulled it out and unzipped her skirt. Within 15 minutes she was clad in a little black dress with a golden sash under her chest. The silk hugged her body. Running a brush through her shoulder-long curls she thanked god she had been to the hairdresser the day before. A little mascara, a little lipstick and voila she was ready. It was then that the phone rang.

"Hey! I'm ready!"

"Miss Gilmore?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes?" Rory was confused.

"Doctor Bower asked me to call you and tell you that he is very sorry and that he can't make it to dinner. He would make it up to you."

"Oh…" she tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. "I understand."

"Good night, miss,"

"Good night."

She sat down on her bed. The phone in her lap and sighed, pulling the clip out of her hair, letting it fall freely along her face. Her shoes followed, then her dress, her pearls…till she was sitting on the couch clad in her flannel pajamas, watching 'I Love Lucy' reruns and eating ice cream.

"Hello?" she answered with her mouth full of chocolate ice cream.

"Birthday girl!!!!" Stephanie's bubbly voice yelled.

"Hey, Steph."

"Sorry. I know you are out, but I was swamped all day and I just HAD to call you. So you are out with Peter?"

"No. He couldn't make it. Surgery. I'm at home. With Lucy."

"Lucy?! Home?! Rory?!" Stephanie shrieked.

Rory chuckled.  
"Yes to all the above."

"That is scandalous! I'm coming over!"

"No Steph really you don't have to!"

"Yes, I do! Girls night in! I'll see you in an hour." She yelled and hung up.

"Steph…?" Rory asked "Steph???" Only the dial tone beeping in her ear.

* * *

Exactly 59 minutes later there was a knock on the door. With a sigh, completely not in the mood, she got up from the couch and slummed to the door. She opened it and got almost knocked over by a screaming Stepahnie.

"Happy happy happy happy happy happy happy birthday!" she yelled squeezing Rory's intestines."

"Ow ow ow ow!"

"What what what???" Stephanie let her go.

"You killed my spleen.." Rory laughed clutching her side.

"Oh shush! You can live without! I have a present for you a surprise!"

"You have?"

"Yes it's a painting!" she blurted out.

"Oh wow surprise!"

"Yeah!" she ran out of the apartment and came back carrying a huge canvas. It was red with splashes of blue, yellow and pink paint.

"Do you like it? Pépé made it when I told him about you. It's supposed to be your soul." She explained.

"Am I by chance schizophrenic?"

"You don't like it…" she stated in a small voice.

"Oh no! I love it! It's so insightful… Thank you it's a beautiful gift."

"The Oompa Loompas were better, ha?"

Rory furrowed her eyebrows. How did she know about the Oompa Loompa's?

"How do you know about the Oompas?"

"Duh…" she rolled her eyes, "I know everything about everyone…"

Thatmuch was true.

"So come on! Get dressed! We are going OUT!" Stephanie clapped her hands.

"What? No… I'd really rather stay in!"

"Come on… It's your birthday. You have to get unbelievably drunk!"

"That's Finn…"

"Trueee… but come, please… the boys are waiting! And we have a surprise for you…"

"Another painting?"

"Either you get dressed or I'm taking you like this…" She stated taking in the blue flannel duckies pyjama's her friend was wearing. Rory sighed in defeat and padded to the bedroom putting on a long black-grey striped knitted jumper, a pair of black leggings, scarf and boots.

"Fine… I'm ready."

Without further any word, Stephanie grabbed her hand and hauled her out the door.

* * *

The yellow New York cab stopped in front of Bar 13, their usual hangout.

"Close your eyes." She ordered.

"Why???"

"Just do it…"

With a sigh she obliged and let Stephanie lead her in to the pub. The sound of laughter, music and voices filled her ears… the faint smell of old wood, smoke and beer reaching her nose, the warmth enveloping her body. Stephanie skilfully manoeuvred her through the tables and people and stopped.

"Ok… open your eyes."

She did and let out a scream. The reason for her reaction screamed back, laughing.

Rory was completely shocked, stunned, dazed, astonished, speechless. So she let her body do the reacting, diving in his lap, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing the life out of him.

"Happy Birthday, Ace." He whispered in her hair.

"Aw… touching…" Colin laughed, "a true Kodak moment."

"Oy, mates, I understand all the hugging and kissing, but I'm parched. Oy pretty, Sheila!!! 5 tequilas. Like the old days!" Finn butted in.

"This is even better than the Oompa Loompa's! When did you get here? WHY did you get here? When are you leaving?" Rory rambled letting go of him.

"I'm flattered. Yesterday. Business. Tomorrow. In that order." He laughed.

"Well WHY didn't you call me yesterday?!"

"So I could surprise you today." He rolled his eyes.

"You scoundrel." She playfully slapped his arm.

"I see the vocabulary has been expanded, since the miscreant days."

"You still are a miscreant."

"Play nice now…"

Their tequila shots and beer arrived and the 5 friends raised their glasses. It didn't happen often that all 5 of them were in one room. Inseparable in college as they were, these moments were rare. First Logan left for London, and though he didn't realise it, in a way he was the heart of the group. It was initially for one year, but he met Laura on a trip to Spain and the girl had changed everything. Now, 8 years later, he had gained a daughter, lost a wife and built a reputation in the Media world almost exceeding his fathers. Colin started to work for his fathers law firm in Hartford, doing what he liked best: argue for money. Finn had found his calling: He opened a bar called Oz… and against all expectations it was a great success. The who is who of New York could be found in his joint, serving the best drinks in Manhattan (according to Fin himself). Stephanie, the heiress of the Vanderbilt fortune, had a successful career in the art business, travelling all over the place. And Rory, Rory was a copy editor on the New York Post. They had grown up, some of them had settled, inflamed successful careers, founded a family. Everything had changed. And yet, sitting here for the first time that year, together, glasses raised, everything felt the same.

"To Reporter Girl!" Finn yelled and the rest of them echoed, Rory chuckling. The birthday feeling creeping back into her demeanour as Finn handed her a package.

"I lost my wallet and then the only card I had was my gas station pass so…" he explained, while Rory tore off the paper and got a pair of windshield wipers out of the box, followed by a bottle of anti-freeze and a bumper sticker saying: _Got chocolate?.  
_Rory laughed enveloping Finn in a hug and kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Finn..."

He patted her on the back.

"I'll buy you a cooler gift, love."

"Cooler than this??? I've a customised bumper sticker! And windshield wipers! You can't have enough windshield wipers! And Anti-freeze. I mean the winter is coming! Can't get through the winter without anti-freeze." She raved. Logan watched her. Her vivid blue eyes and her brown curls – shorter than he remembered – dancing along her face. He had missed her, his Ace. He loved every person at this table as a part of himself, yet Rory was the person he had called when Laura had died. It had been Rory who had gotten on a plane to be in London the same night. It was her who held him. It was her who stayed the whole week, doing the things he could not summon himself to do. He would go through fire for all of them, but for Rory he would go twice if necessary. She was his friend in the purest meaning of the word.

"Don't you think?" she asked.

"Sorry, what?" he asked finding her eyes.

"Getting old, Huntzberger?"

"Men are like wine, Ace, they improve with age."

"Some turn to vinegar, my friend."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying that I'm not a bottle of Dom. Romane Conti '97?"

She laughed.

"You're more like the house brand…"

"Children!" Colin chimed. "My turn to give the present." He handed Rory an envelope.

"Let me guess… it's car oil!" Rory joked pulling out card. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the 1000 Dollar gift certificate for Shakespeare & co., her favorite bookstore.

"I'm not good in gift buying and all that jazz, but you know that." He smiled.

"This is too much, Colin."

"Don't be silly, Gilmore. I can give thousands and thousands to charity but can't give you one?" he argued.

"Well if you put it that way…?" Rory rolled her eyes, giving him a kiss. They waitress came baring a chocolate cake with what seemed 28 candles on it.

"Make a wish, Ace…" Logan said. Rory smiled, closed her eyes and blew till every one of the little lights were out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Do not own Gilmore Girls.

**ANHey everyone… here is the third chapter. Sorry it took me so long. I hope you like it. Read and I kindly ask you: REVIEW:)**

_**Chapter 3. Happy Birthday (part 2) **_

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok?" Steph said, giving Rory a peck on the cheek.

"Ok." They were standing outside the bar. Saying their goodbyes.

"Have fun! Talk to you soon. Steph are you coming or not?" Colin yelled pushing a heavily intoxicated Finn into a waiting cab.

Stephanie rolled her eyes.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Have a safe trip home, Huntzberger."

With a final wave she too got in the car and it drove off, leaving only Rory and Logan standing in the chilly October night.

"So that left only two little Indians." She smiled. "Where do you reside?"

"The Carlyle." He answered.

"But of course. Mind if I walk you?" The hotel wasn't far.

"Of course not. New York isn't a safe city for defenseless good looking men like myself."

Rory chuckled hooking her arm through his.

They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, when it was broken by Logan's phone.

"Hey, what are you still doing up?" Logan asked.

"…"

"Yes. Yes. I remember. Forgive me." He chuckled.

Rory looked up at him. His daughter was on the phone. His voice, his demeanor, his eyes softened. She could always tell.

"What did you do?"

"…"

"Well because every time you are being awfully nice to me I get either a phone call from your teacher or I find something patched together with duck tape."

"…"

"Lou…." He stretched.

"…"

"That's more like it and no. It's a school night."

"…"

"Whine whine whine… No…. And no I don't care what Vicky's mother says."

"…"

"Lou, no! Did you do your homework? Good. Put Isobel on the phone. Yes I'll see you tomorrow. Bye. Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite."

For a quick minute he talked to the nanny and put his phone away.

"School day sleepovers…" he sighed.

"Go dad. Put your foot down." Rory laughed.

"Wait till you have kids…"

"I' never thought I would hear that line from your lips." She chuckled as they stopped in front of a mighty building… Logan's stop.

"Want to come up? It's midnight… but we are young. Well, I am."

She hit him and smirked.

"We didn't really get the chance to talk, did we."

He shook his head.

"Do you have coffee?"

"Can be arranged."

"Then lead the way."

* * *

"So I noticed… you don't …" Rory was sitting on the couch a mug of coffee in her hands. "you're not wearing your wedding ring."

Logan's eyes drifted to his naked finger. With his thumb he stroked the spot that once was occupied by a golden wedding band.

"I took it off one day when I went climbing and then I just forgot to put it on again. I noticed it the next morning and didn't put it back on. I stared at it for 15 minutes but left it off."

Rory placed her hand over his, giving it a light squeeze.

"You'll be ok."

Logan smiled.

"Have I ever thanked you for everything you have done? Thank you."

Rory's lips curled into a faint smile.

"I haven't done anything, Logan. I wish I could bring her back for you, but that I can't do." Rory whispered. She really did. It broke her heart to see him hurt, to see him cry or to see him lost.

His fingers curled around hers.

"Rory… You have done more than anyone else, by just being there for me and Lou. You saved my life, Ace, whether you know it or not. I'll be ok. Because of you."

"You did it all yourself. You still was there for me and for Colin, Finn and Steph. You didn't skip one birthday, you haven't let go work… yet you didn't burry yourself in it. And Louisa. You were great with Louisa. You are a brave man, Logan Huntzberger."

"As long as you know it." He winked. Unbelievable. Rory snickered. Only Logan could turn such a conversation around 180 degrees in one sentence.

"So you and that Peter… still hot and heavy?"

Rory smiled.

"It's not hot and heavy it's a nice warm slumber."

"I want to meet this guy."

"Well then you shouldn't be living in London."

"How is next month for ya?" he asked.

"What? You'll be in the States? For how long?"

"Well…"he smirked.

"Logan," she squeezed her eyes, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I know that look, Huntzberger, what aren't you telling me?"

"I didn't break the vase, MOM." Logan laughed.

"Spill!" she poked his side laughing, knowing he was ticklish there.

He let out a yelp.

"Why don't you try the Chinese Water Torture Technique while you are at it." He laughed.

"Teeeeellll me !" Rory whined.

His eyes traced her face. Her laughing eyes the size of saucers waiting in anticipation, the freckles on her nose, she was so self-conscious about, but he found adorable, her pouting mouth. He chuckled. He would love having her around again.

"I'm coming back."

Scratch the saucers, he thought, eyes the size of frying pans.

"What?" she shrieked.

"I'm coming back." He repeated.

"WHAT?!"

"I'm moving back to the States."

"WHAT?!"

"Are you in need of an hearing device? Or should I just skip the device and learn sign language instead?" he laughed.

"OH MY GOD! Where are you going to live?!" Rory yelled.

"I found this comfy refrigerator box under the Brooklyn bridge, a little brush of paint and I'm all settled. And the view…."

"Logan!"

"Carnegie Hill. Bought a place up there. Signed the papers… about the time you got your singing Oompa Loompa telegram." He smirked resting his head in his hand.

Rory laughed. Her best friend was coming home after 8 years! She wanted to do a happy dance. No more long distance phone calls… No more once- in- a – half- year visits.

"We need to celebrate." She exclaimed, but then her smile faded. "You are happy, aren't you? Moving back here?"

He smiled.

"I am, Ace."

"Good. Now get off your butt and order some room service!"

"You have really become vicious, you know that? Is New York making a wolf out of you?" he laughed

"Yes I can eat 15 kg meat at a time. Now go!"

"Yes, mam," he winked picking up the phone.

* * *

2 bottles of champagne later Rory was dead to the world on the couch. Logan, who had had 2 glasses was watching her sleep. Poor Ace, that would be one hell of a champagne induced hangover in the morning. He had almost stopped drinking all together after Laura died, not trusting his emotional state after a few glasses, not wanting for Louisa to see him break down. The indoor climbing gym became the place where he came work away his frustration and after a while Louisa joined him occasionally, soon becoming a little monkey. With a sigh he got up and unzipped Rory's boots, smirking at her purple painted toe sticking through a hole in her sock. From his bed he pulled a pillow and a blanket, carefully lifting her head and placing the pillow underneath it, brushing the hair out of her face while doing so. She murmured something incoherent before cuddling in the soft pillow and sleeping on. After spreading out the blanket over her curled up body he dimmed the lights and let himself fall on the bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep in seconds…

* * *

Rory cringed at the dull pain in her head as she opened her eyes and buried herself under the blanket.

"Morning, Ace…" Logan's cheerful voice greeted.

"Not so loud!"

"Sorry, Morning, Finn," he laughed.

"Shut up." She sighed heavily. "What time is it?"

" Almost 9.30."

"God, I have to go to work! I have to take a shower. I need to change my clothes! I'm late!" She rambled standing up. As soon as she reached a vertical position she clasped her head and moaned.

"Don't hurt yourself, Ace…" Logan chuckled, handing her a glass and a few aspirins.

"Thanks." She sighed finally opening her eyes. "Why are you so clean-shaven and sober?"

"Well I didn't drink myself into a coma…" Logan smirked, "And my flight goes in 4 hours."

"OH MY GOD!" she suddenly exclaimed. "THE PRESENTATION!" She had completely forgotten. Mr. Killer was going to, well… kill her.

"What time?" Logan asked.

"10.30" she said with a horrified look in her eyes. The smeared mascara gave her the look of a sad leper.

"You'll make it. Go! Take a shower. I'll worry about your clothes. Work at work or home?"

"Home."

"Keys…"

"What?"

"Give me your keys. I'll send a messenger. Where is it?"

"Chair next to the coffee table. My laptop and a file on top of it."

"Ok…" Rory watched as he penned it down, pulling out his cell phone at the same time. She smirked. Quit the multi- tasker.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked with a smile, "Shoo, the shower is… yes, Hi, could you send a messenger to suite 259, uhu.." he pointed to the bedroom.

"Thank you," she mouthed. He only smiled in return.

She ran out of the shower, her body wrapped in a towel.

"On the bed!" She heard Logan call and snatched the bag, disappearing in the bathroom again.

She pulled out a black cashmere turtleneck and a grey check pattern Burberry skirt. For a second a grin flashed her face as she couldn't help but be amazed about Logan's ability to pick out clothes for her. Sometimes even better than she did herself. She got dressed as if the bathroom was on fire. One hand applying mascara, the other brushing her hair. Never in her live had she been in such a hurry it seemed.

* * *

Logan looked up as she walked into the sitting area.

"Lord I so need…" she started

"Coffee?" he smirked.

Rory snickered.

"Oh my God… you are a saint." she grabbed the cup from him, smelling the rich aroma and nearly fainting out of pleasure.

She quickly downed the contents.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked referring to her clothes.

He waved it aside.

"Logan." She whined.

"Rory." He whined back.

When was she going to learn? Probably never. And if he knew her well enough she would find out the prize and mail him a check…. Which he would mail back… and she would mail to him again. He snickered. In the end they would have spent more on post stamps then the bought item was worth.

With an "AHHH I have no time to argue now" she grabbed her laptop bag.

"This is it?" she asked with a pout.

"For now." He smiled.

"I hate the Atlantic." She mumbled.

He grinned. She still could put down a 5 year old in full glory.

"Hey. You'll get sick of me once I'm back."

"I won't." she looked at him with her big blue eyes. Eyes he never could quit get out of his skull.

"You will." He leaned and kissed her cheek. "Now go. Knock 'em dead." A smile lit up her beautiful face as she hugged him.

"Call me, ok?"

"I'll call you when I've gotten home… kicked off my shoes… put my kid to bed and taken a hot shower. Then you can tell me about your presentation."

She laughed.

"Ok. Say hi to Louisa from me."

"I will. Now go, cab is waiting!"

"Have a good flight." She yelled as she ran out of the door.

"They never are." He smirked. God, he hated flying. With a sigh he let himself fall in a chair, yet got up when something pointy poked in his butt.

He pulled it from underneath him and turned it around. It was a file. He frowned… trying to figure out what it was. It then hit him. With a sigh and a shake of his head he got up. Smirking he called Frank.

"Frank? We need to drop something off… yes… at the New York Post."

* * *

Where was it? Where was it? Where was it???!!!! Frantically Rory looked around. Did she leave it in the cab? Crap?! Crap?!

"Miss Gilmore, are you ready to proceeded?" Kellers malicious voice boomed.

"Yes, almost." She said in a small voice. "One second."

"Anna!!1 I lost…"

"The file?" Anna asked with a cheeky grin.

"Yes where…?! How?!"

"Your boyfriend dropped it off…And Rory… you never told me he was that HOT?!" her assistant exclaimed.

"What??? My boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Blond … Slightly taller than you. Chocolate brown eyes and that smile…" Anna fanned herself with the file. "should be made illegal… I can't understand how you can be so… neutral about a man like that!"

"Anna… get a grip!" Rory laughed. "First off all. That was not my boyfriend."

"It wasn't…"

"No. Secondly…did he say anything?"

"He said to wish you luck and left." Rory nodded, she hoped he didn't miss his flight because of her.

"Thirdly…"

"MISS GILMORE, WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY!!!" Rory flinched.

"Thirdly…. I need that file. NOW!" she snatched it from her.

"I'll make you tell!!!!" Anna yelled after her as her boss scurried away.

* * *

She was exhausted… What a hellish day… And that for a Friday… She put the key in the lock of her apartment but it was unlocked. Strange. Maybe the messenger Logan had sent had forgotten to lock it. Still a bit vigilant, she opened the door… lights were on. What was this? Then she noticed Peters coat on the rack and her mind eased.

She kicked out her shoes and entered the living room.

"Hey" she said with a tired smile

"Where the hell have you been?!" was his answer. The look on his face… balancing somewhere between worry and anger.. made her smile disappear.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: _**Do not own Gilmore Girls.

**AN: So there it is...finaly... I have to say, it's really hard writing this story...I've started over like 3 times... But, by all that is made out of chocolate, this thing is not going to knuckle me down :)! So this is the last chapter about Rory's birthday and now I think I'm going to skip a little while... I mean I have to be realistic: If i want to finish this before I'm grey and old in some seniorhome watching the homeshopping channel 24/7... I will have to stop writing 3 chapters about every day that passes by... lol... ****I wanted to thank all of you who stand by me although my updates are slow... :) thanks for the suport, it means a lot. Oh and a special thanks to Caroline. Hon, I would have never ever finished this without your help. Hahaha well what can I add more...read it and review!**

**_Chapter 4 Quarrels and Happy Birthday yet again. _**

_She was exhausted… What a hellish day… And that for a Friday… She put the key in the lock of her apartment but it was unlocked. Strange. Maybe the messenger Logan had sent had forgotten to lock it. Still a bit vigilant, she opened the door… lights were on. What was this? Then she noticed Peters coat on the rack and her mind eased. _

_She kicked out her shoes and entered the living room._

"_Hey" she said with a tired smile_

"_Where the hell have you been?!" was his answer. The look on his face… balancing somewhere between worry and anger.. made her smile disappear. _

* * *

"Peter, I…" 

"Do you know how worried I was?!" He yelled. "I sent the goddamn green berets!"

"You sent the the Royal Norwegian Jeger Battalion?" she asked trying to lighten the mood.

"Rory!" he groaned. "Where were you?! I called and you didn't pick up your phone! I went to your place and you didn't come home…"

"We went out… I forgot about time…fell asleep at Logan's."

"Logan's? The lives in London Logan's?"

"He came over… we caught up…" she shrugged.

"He came over?! You caught up?!"

"Yeah…it's no big deal. Would you calm down…It was a surprise visit. He knows I'm with you…and YOU know that he is my best friend! What are you mad about? Me not calling? Or me spending the night with Logan?" She exclaimed. His eyes grew.

"AT Logan's." she corrected herself. "God! He is no threat to you!"

Wait she thought… why am I defending myself here?

"I don't want to fight about this, Peter… I'm sorry I didn't call.. Stephanie dragged me out… I didn't think of bringing my phone…I'm not sorry that Logan and I spent the night talking… I'm not sorry for going out on my birthday!"

"Oh so you were punishing me for working?! What was I supposed to do? Leave the kid open on the table?"

"Have you lost your mind?!" She looked into his green eyes, searching, for an ounce of sanity. "Punishing you?! It hadn't even crossed my mind to be mad at you! I was disappointed, YeS! But punishing? I'm not 5, Peter. Does it have to be some sort of punishment, me hanging out with my friends? I can't remember the last time we were all together like that! I'm not ..bitching… about you and your friends!"

Peter was thrown back a little. Sweet Rory using a word like bitching…didn't happen everyday.

"I'm going to Stars Hollow," she then stated, walking past him to the bedroom.

"Rory…"

"ALONE." She emphasized.

"Rory…" he pleaded. But she wouldn't hear it as the door closed with a bang.

* * *

Halfway to her hometown a tear made it's way down her cheek and she angrily brushed it away. Of all the things that ran through her mind when Logan told that he was coming back, a fuming Peter was not one of them. And she hadn't even told him he was coming back. They never fought. Their life together was a perfect equilibrium. It was warm and peaceful. This kind of drama just didn't occur in their daily routine. Then again, their daily routine hadn't included Logan till now. His homecoming was now accompanied by binary feelings. The idea of her best friend living in the same town again after 8 years filled her heart with joy. The feeling that Peter would have trouble tolerating Logan's presence made her stomach twist into a knot. Her phone rang. She picked it up, looking at the caller ID and flipped it open. 

"Hey."

* * *

Logan flopped down on the couch, put his feet on the coffee table and dialed the familiar number. 

"_Hey."_ She answered, her voice diffuse.

"Hey. You ok?"

"_Yes. Long day. Looong loooong day." _

He smirked.

"Your presentation?"

"_Went well…"_ she chuckled, _"Do to a certain gallant act."_

His smirk grew.

"Where did you leave your head, Ace…"

"_In the bottle of champagne, I guess."_ She chuckled.

"Yes…I'm starting to think you have a problem."

"_Hey!"_ she protested, _" That you drank 2 glasses, ONLY 2 glasses of the bubbly is purely a miracle! The Logan I know, would down that bottle in a blink…and…"_

"Now don't confuse me with Finn, Ace, that would actually hurt my feelings. Maybe you drank the anti-freeze the man gave you instead of the champagne…. Because I have to tell you… your alcohol tolerance used to be higher."

He could almost see her pout.

"And don't pout.."

Rory gasped. She was NOT pouting… She NEVER pouted.

* * *

"I NEVER…"she started, but was brutally cut off. 

"_Pout, Ace? I'd bet Colin's beloved rock-collection on it that you do and in fact ARE pouting!"_ Rory glanced in the mirror…and cursed her protruding sulky lip.

"I am not." She then stated.

"_Liar liar skirt on fire!"_

She started laughing out loud.

"My skirt is not pleased."

"_Pitiable skirt."_ Rory smiled, the dark cloud above her head slowly dissolving and the downpour of hail not prevailing.

"You got back ok?" she asked.

"_Yes. I…"_

"…hate flying. I know."

"_Yeah. I'm home. Going to pick up Lou from her friends house in an hour. I had only one phone call from her school. I don't think I need to connect the U.N. just now. It's good."_

"What did she do?" Rory asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"_I'm not sure. Izzy's message was blurry. It involved some boy and a duck… I guess I'll hear the story or well A version of it in an hour." _

"My God. She is turning into you." Rory chuckled.

"_She is NOT!"_

"You can deny it all you want, but Louisa May Huntzberger, is as two drops of water her dad. Boys are going to worship her…or run away scared…"

"_She is not Paris, Ace… Boys are going to love her." _

"I don't say they won't. Every Finnlike copy is going to put her on a pedestal and…"

"_Way to ease a fathers mind." _

"Hey you turned out pretty decent… don't worry."

"_I'm worrying about the duck…" _he sighed.

"All sorts of gruesome scenario's flashing through your mind?"

"_Yes…"_

"Decapitation, quarter, drowning, suffocation…?" Rory asked.

"_Ace…"_

"Yes?" she asked innocently.

"_You scare me… If I wouldn't know you better I would say you work for the KGB…"_

"You watch way too much Alias…"

"_I DO …"_ he started to protest.

"Not?" she mimicked him. "I'm willing to bet Finn's booze inventory that you in fact DO."

"_Okay, okay…jeez…ease up on me will ya?"_

Rory turned her blue car into the driveway of her childhood _home and got out._

"_I won't bother you."_ He said._ "Give Lorelei my best wishes."_

"How do you know…" she raised her eyebrows.

"_That you are in Stars Hollow? Well let see. Your birthday was yesterday. You were just in your car. I can hear you walking on pebbles and there is a squeaky step on the porch…"_

"What squeaky step?" Rory asked climbing the porch steps when her foot hit a stile, producing a whiny sound."

"How do you? It wasn't there last time I was here…"

"_Yes it was!"_

"It wasn't!"

"_Ace, it has been there for the past 10 years…"_

Just then the door flew open and Luke hurried outside, almost colliding with his step daughter.

"Rory! Hi! You are here. Happy Birthday…I need to go to the garage, and get the fire extinguisher…" Rory frowned.

Luke walked down the steps hitting the noisy stile.

"Lord I've been telling your mother someone ought to fix it for a decade now!" he murmured striding to the garage, "Guess I'm gonna have to do it myself."

Rory was silent for a while.

"_Aw, hon, don't take it personally," _Logan laughed. _"You and your mom just perceive the world in different colors…and sounds…"_

"You freak me out." She deadpanned. "I'm going to hang up now."

"_Ok. Have a good one. Bye, Ace."_

"Bye."

She turned around, at the same time that Kirk ran out of the house wearing a black rubber suit and screaming, followed by Lorelei clad in a pink cat suit, white boots, gloves and a pink motor helmet on her head carrying a smoking bucket.

"SUPER-LUKE!" she yelled, "Be quick! Use the quantum de-stabilizer to destroy the supermutated radioactive superglowing boll of super-energy created by the evil and wicked dr. Octopus!" she hollered in a singsong voice.

"You do realize that the thing you are referring to as a quantum de-stabilizer is in fact a fire extinguisher… and superboll energy… is you setting the cake on fire?" Luke grunted.

Lorelei rolled her eyes: "You are no fun!"

"Hey, Hey, Hey! The Blue Power Ranger has arrived!" She enveloped a startled Rory into a hug.

"Blue what?"

"Power Ranger. You are 28! We are having a Superpary!"

Rory let out a chuckle.

"And you are… the pink Power Ranger?"

"Yes I'm the moxy…you are the brains…"

"How is the blue Power Ranger the brains… How can any Power Ranger be the brains...?"

"Duhuh! In "Ninja Storms"…"

"Yeah, well "Ninja Storms" doesn't have a pink Power ranger."

"It does!"

"Mom…"

"Fine Hollow Storms does… And where is Peter??? I have the perfect costume for him!"

"He's not coming." Rory said, the hurt creeping back in her.

"THE FLASH! It's red and has this how do you call it lightning thingy and…He is not coming?" She looked almost sad. The thing that made Rory smirk was that it wasn't because she was so in love with Peter…but that she couldn't put him in her 'perfect costume'.

"No."

"Why not?"

"We had a fight…" she replied softly.

"A fight? You never fight!" Lorelei's eyes grew.

"Well we obviously do…" Rory sighed.

"About…"

"He cancelled on me yesterday… and then Stephanie came and she took me out and I spent the evening in the pub with Colin, Logan and Finn and then time just…"

"Wait…Logan?"

"What?"

"You just said Logan."

"Yeah. He flew over." She smiled. "He is coming back to New York."

"That's great! Why didn't you bring him?"

"He is in London again and… well we talked all night practically… at his hotel…and we drank ….well I drank a little too much and fell asleep and then in the morning I had this hangover and I forgot about work and then I remembered about work, which was even worse and then I had to run and this file I forgot it but found it again.. God, I thought my boss was going to kill me and when I did get home after work… Peter was there….and he was mad…and when I told him where I had been the mad turned into furious…and hence I am here… all by my lonesome." She ended her rant taking a well needed breath.

"Aw…Peter was jealous of Logan?"

"Yes… when he heard I spent the night there he was just so..argh!"

"Did he know Logan is your best friend?"

"He did. I've never seen him like that."

"Well you and Logan do have a very enviable connection."

"SO?! He and I we are like… you and me!"

"You and me, hon… we have a special bond… and Peter he sees that connection between us, but I'm your mother… Logan is a non related guy… neither ugly, nor stupid… you and him are completely on one wavelength and that is rare… So maybe he just envies that…"

Rory nodded.

"I just… he was right I should have called. I just forgot… I was all giddy that Logan was coming back…I mean he is my best friend who lives an ocean away…"

"Best friend?! You rang?!?!" Lane flung her arms around an unsuspecting Rory who squealed.

"LANE!!!!! I thought you weren't able to make it!!"

"Well I can't miss your birthday can I?!" Lane laughed. "Zack is babysitting …with the help of Brian…the twins ARE after all 7 and Cleveland is a big city with lots of hospitals…I thought… I'm going to visit my best friend!!!"

"So cool!"

"I knoooow!" The two women were bouncing up and down in exactly the same fashion they had bounced many moons ago.

"Ok girls! Inside!" Lorelei commanded. "Your blue suit is awaiting… and then…" she jumped into a squatting goat, ninja-like pose, "LIMBOTIME!"

* * *

It was one am, when Rory plopped down on the single bed in her old room, letting out an exhausted sigh. She was about to die. With a moan she remembered the dinner with her grandmother the following day. _I'm never gonna celebrate a birthday in my life again_, she thought and kicked off the hideous white boots. Her head was still doing overtime. Peter. She had to call him. Apologize. It was the least she could do. _Stupid Rory! _She hadn't thought at all about Peters reaction. It was a while before he answered the phone. 

"_Hello?"_ His voice sounded sleepy.

"Hey. I'm sorry that I woke you…" There was a brief silence.

"_That's ok."_

"And I'm sorry… for not calling and worrying you and not even leaving a note. I guess I was a little mad at you after all." She continued.

She could hear him sigh on the other end.

"_It's ok, Rory. Perhaps I was overreacting a little. And I'm sorry I attacked you about Logan. I had no right."_

"I hate fighting with you…" she sighed.

"_Me too."_

"Lets never fight again."

"_Deal."_

"So… dinner tomorrow with my grandparents and mom and Luke…are you coming?"

"_Am I allowed?" _

"Peter…"

He chuckled.

"_I'll be waiting for you in front of the gates of the house on haunted hill. At 6 right?"_

"Yeah."

"_I love you, Rory." _She smiled.

"I love you too…Night."

"_Sleep tight." _Rory put her phone down on the nightstand and struggled to peel the hideous blue latex cat suit of her body. _Ew…I smell like rubber! This is so the last birthday ever. _Her cell-phone vibrated again, signaling that she had a message. Tiredly she picked it up while crawling under the warm covers

_Duck suffered merely psychological damage. Logan., _she read and chuckled, turning off the light and closing her eyes with a content smile.

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Ok so I am horrible…I am aware. I haven't updated this since November and am deeply ashamed of myself. This story doesn't come easy for me but November is a little extreme lol. So I deeply apologize and thank you for all the wonderful reviews so far. And Caroline, thank you for your help and for not letting me give up. I hope you like this chapter :) . **

_**Chapter 5: Home sweet home**_

"So… what do you say?" Logan asked his girl, leaning against the counter of their new kitchen and following Louisa with his eyes as she silently inspected every corner and every unevenness.

"It's … pretty." She said.

"Pretty?"

"It's a house not a dress… you'll have to give me more than that."

"I'm 7, dad…"

"That didn't stop you before…" he chuckled.

"Where is my room??" she then asked flashing him her teeth and the holes in between them.

He laughed.

"Go look…" She didn't have to be told twice as she bolted into the hallway. He could hear her opening and closing doors. And there was his long-awaited confirmation that their new living space was indeed liveable:

"WOOOOOOOOOW!" he heard her roar and padded to her room. She was standing in the middle of the lavender space and was gazing at the white furniture holding the majority of her toys and books. Her favourite Disney poster was firmly in place above her bed. Tigger and Eeyor laughing at her. Her plush animals were sitting on her bed waiting and there in the corner was Hopscotch's cage, where the oversized grey bunny was nibbling on a leaf of salad.

"I take that you like it?"

"This is suuuuuper-cool!" she raved. Logan leaned against the doorpost enjoying her enthusiasm.

"Hey, Pinky, I have something for you." He said.

"What what what what!!" she was jumping up and down. He sat down on her bed and handed her a booklet.

"The Cat- cath- …." She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Cathedral." Logan helped her.

"Cathedral school of st. John the di-di-..." she read.

"Divine." Logan finished.

The girl made a face. "Schoooool??"

"Yes…what did you think…we move to another country and you can suddenly roam free with the wildlife? I don't think so, honey… your imprisonment has just begun."

She pouted.

"But..but…"

"Yes…your butt goes to school as of Monday…"

"NO FAIR! Why don't you go to school?!"

"Because I'm right, you're wrong. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm big, you're little. And there's nothing you can do about it!" He teased, sticking his tongue out at her.

Louisa rolled her eyes at her dad quoting her favourite book.

"Ok, miss –I'm-too-good-to-go-to-school- give me one good reason why you shouldn't go to school…" The girl didn't miss a beat.

"I can spell vacuum-cleaner!"

"And that will get you far in life…how?" he scoffed.

"I'll become a vacuum-cleaner maker…"

"And you'll make them how? Out of papier-mâché? Or will you simply glue letters together? Do you know how much goes in the making of the vacuum cleaner… You need math and at least a few motor skills and science and … I realize I'm carrying it through a little…."

"A little…" Louisa nodded.

"Fine spell me vacuum-cleaner…"

"H-O-O-V-E-R."

Logan burst out in laughter.

"Cute… Monday school it is…"

"Mean."

"Well that's what I'm here for … to make your life miserable."

"Dad…" Lou started.

"Yes, dearest daughter…"

"We are going to be late."

"Late where?"

"Dinner with grandma and grandpa and auntie Honor and Josh and William and Sofie. And I already packed my bag!!"

Honor had said that she could spend the weekend with them, giving him the opportunity to quietly settle the last matters that accompanied a move to another country. Hereby she was also providing some entertainment for his little girl, who was not seeing all that much of him since they got here 2 weeks ago. The girl hadn't stopped gushing about the fact that she was having a sleepover with her auntie and baby cousin for a whole week and he was glad she was happy, but dinner at his parents... He groaned.

"I don't want to…"

"Well too bad." She mimicked him, "Life ain't easy you know."

He smirked. She had lost a mother. In that aspect she was thrown into 'life' way too soon… And she appeared so wise for a 7yearold… when in fact the words that left her mouth were his…and she didn't fully grasp the meaning of them. He had to give it to her… she DID reproduce them in the perfect crucial moments. Sometimes he worried if he could still handle her in a few years. Or how he would suffice her with a mother figure. He sighed.

"Dad?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing, hon. Go grab your shoes."

"I already have my shoes on…. Maybe you should go to school too."

He smiled.

"Argh… help your old man up, here." Louisa pulled on his arm, but he didn't budge, pulling her in his arms and tickling her instead.

"HEEEEEELP!" she screamed laughing. "DAAAHAAAHAAAAAD!"

"That's what you get…teasing your dearly beloved father," he let her go and she ran off.

"The last one at the elevator is a rotten banana!" He smiled once more before getting up and closing the door of the lilac room as her words echoed through their still largely empty apartment.

* * *

"Hey, hon!" Honor laughed, when Louisa, locked her arms around her leg. "My God you have grown! What has been that dad of yours been feeding you?"

"Brussels sprouts," Logan winked kissing his sister on her cheek and shaking Josh' hand, before ruffling through his nephews blond hair. Louisa made a face upon hearing the detested vegetable, hiding her face in her auntie's sweater.

"Your daddy didn't exactly clean out his plate of vegetables when he was 7 either. He hid them in his pockets."

"Noooo, I didn't!" Logan interjected, trying to save any dignity that he could and to prevent that he had to wrestle his daughter into eating veggies even more than he already did.

"Yes he did." Honor mouthed with a wink and a stroke through Louisa's soft curls. "Where is Sofie?" Louisa suddenly inquired looking around the room, searching for her little cousin. "Yes. Where is my baby niece?"

Honor smiled, making her way to a bouncer standing in a dim lit part of the room. A slight protest could be heard as she took the 1 month old baby in her arms.

"She is so little…" Louisa's eyes sparkled at the sight of the little creature. "Was I so little too?" she asked her dad, who stroked the baby's puffy cheek with his knuckle. His eyes filled with warmth as he looked at the girl. He remembered the extraordinary feeling of holding her for the first time, how she seemed to fit in his hands. Little fists clenched just as Sofie's now, perfect in every way.

"Yes you were." He smiled, "And you'll remain that way if you are not going to eat vegetables." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Can I hold her? Please??"

"Sit down on the couch first, sweetie." Louisa didn't have to be told twice hopping on the couch. Logan watched as his sister placed the delicate human being in her lap and his daughter cooing her. "You did good." He told Honor giving her a light squeeze, when she came to stand next to him once more. She smiled directing her eyes to her niece. "So did you."

"Hello hello hello," Shira's sing-song broke the special disposition hanging in the room the same way an elephant would entering a porcelain cabinet. "Logan! Honor! Josh! Your father is late as usual… Haven't you talked to him?" she questioned her son. Logan shrugged. "No… because I work for him doesn't mean we are frolicking through the hallways hand-in-hand."

"Hello William!" she greeted. "Give grandma a kiss?" The boy hid behind his mother evading her.

"Silly boy." She laughed. "And there is the beautiful princes," she smiled at her youngest grandchild, her face turning sour immediately. "Honor, don't let her hold Sofie. She'll drop her." "She is doing fine, mom." Honor rolled her eyes, sitting down next to her niece. "Hey grandma." Louisa cheerfully greeted.

"You'll drop her. You are holding her all wrong." her face was stoic as she said that. "You shouldn't be holding her at all."

Logan wanted to break some of her expensive china. This had nothing to do with a seven year old holding a baby and everything with the seven year old being Louisa. He knew his mother never approved of him marrying beneath his class… a Spanish girl none the less… but that she was taking it out on his daughter was low. Even for her standards.

The girl looked at her father, her dark eyes questioning.

"She is doing a great job," Honor interjected and threw a disgusted look Shira's way.

Logan gave Honor a sad smile. Through all the years of Huntzbergerisms his sister had been the only one that had supported him 150 percent through everything he did, stupid or otherwise.

"So how's your new room looking?" she asked Lou, who found her spark again.

"I have this suuupeeerpretty room!" she raved and the baby let out a displeased cry. Honor laughed taking the baby from her.

"Have you now?"

Lou nodded. Logan directed his gaze at his mother… locked eyes with her and didn't let go. She stared back. It was when Mitchum entered the icy room that the both of them stopped their Cold War, but the sphere for an Iron Curtain was set.

"Sorry I'm late." He said, his eyes darting from his son to his wife. Something wasn't right.

"That's ok, darling." Shira smiled excessively.

"Louisa, como estas?" he winked and set in a little thawing in Logan's frosty mood. He didn't know how or why, but his father… his worst enemy only a few years ago… was fond of Louisa and to add to the miracles of this world…he had been completely in favour of him marrying Laura. Since then they perhaps didn't enjoy a mutual sauna and a beer… but he had come to look at him from another perspective tolerating him and his opinion and didn't automatically oppose everything the man said. For a few years now his mind had been Zen when it came to Mitchum Huntzberger. But hey he was a Huntzberger and had you overcome one another one would jump out of the bushes claws shining. C'est la vie, he thought. And he didn't care. But if that godforsaken woman was going to mentally or physically harm one hair on that girls head… the apocalypse would be the least of her problems. He would hunt her down and... Honor placed a hand on his arm.

"Logan… I'm afraid you'll start roaring here." She whispered.

"Huh?"

"You look like a prowling lion, ready to eat the big evil…gazelle."

"Well I am…" he said through clenched teeth.

Shira left the room to go check on dinner because… that new **_Spanish _**maid was no good and Logan was not only in the mood to trash her precious China, but trash it on her head.

"Here.." almost with a growl he looked up. Mitchum was standing in front of him, a glass of scotch in his extended hand.

He took it from him with a nod of appreciation.

"So how is work?" Mitchum asked sitting down.

"It's ok. There is some money draining away and I need yet to find where and how. The contents are ok; I'm thinking how I can give it a new coat. But first I need to find the flaws in advertisement and management. There are hundreds of thousands being transferred and I don't really understand how or why"

Michum nodded: "Good. I take it you'll deal with this sooner than later?"

"I'm sitting down with a system analyst next week."

"Good. That's good. I'm going to need you at headquarters somewhere next month."

"Headquarters?" Logan raised his eyebrows. "Did you get hooked on Alias as well?"

"Excuse me?"  
"Never mind." He sipped his from his drink. _Headquarters. _Maybe him coming back wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Dinner is ready!" Shira chirped, " Fiiinaly. How hard is it to see the difference between a salad and desert? So hard to find decent help these days."

Logan smiled sweetly.

"If that woman is not going to put a sock in it soon I'm, being a loving son and all, am going to help her a hand." He grumbled getting up and taking Lou's hand.

* * *

"Oh no!! Kyle!! Do you have the photo's?" Rory tripped over a trash bin and nearly demolished an office cubicle.

"Wow there boss… Chill!" Kyle held his hands up, lazily leaning back in his chair.

"Chill? CHILL?? The deadline is in an hour and the whole section is falling apart! Chill?! I'll give you the BIG CHILL, if you won't get off your… bu…ASS and get me the pictures for Normans story!" With that she stomped her foot to add muscle to her statement and ran off. This was not going well! Not well at all! It was closing to eight and not only was the material for Saturdays issue scattered all over the place, but the people too. _Come on, Gilmore, pull it together! You were the editor off the whole YDN! You can put one section together without casualties. _

"Rory?" Anna softly said.

"Yes?!" She jumped back. "Keller called. He asked how long…"

Rory sighed and buried her head in her arms.

"Do you want some coffee?" Anna asked, her bright pink hair so …there… that it almost caused a seizure. _Oh God let me have a seizure, something that inflicts brain damage and is enough for me to spend a nice quiet week in the hospital._

"Yes… coffee…would be nice."

She sighed sitting down and jumped up when her phone started vibrating in her pocket.

"Hello? Logan, hi."

"_Hey there, Ace… What do you say…Drinks at Finns?"_

Rory heaved another sigh. "IIIIII…would love to, but I'm swamped….everything is falling apart and I think I'm going to throw myself in front of a train."

"_No need for suicidal thoughts. It can't be that bad."_

"You have no idea…. Where are you?"

"_Hartford. ."_

"The dinner with your parents?"

"_Yes…unfortunately…Give me another 2 hours and I'll be back in the Apple._

"Logan…NO. My boss hates me as it is…"

"_And how would I make him hate you more?!"_

She heaved a sigh.

"Fine…"

"_A little more enthusiasm didn't hurt anybody."_

"I'm sorry, but I'm swamped and cranky!"

"_That's no reason to go ripping people's heads off, young lady."_

"I'm sweet as a kitten…NIGEL! Do you have it ready?? NO?! JESUS, MARY AND FRIKKIN MOZES!! WHAT IS IT YOU DO ALL DAY?! Ugh…don't answer that. Just go! GO! GO! GO!"

She sighed. This was simply infuriating.

Logan held the phone further from his ear, while poor Nigel got a full load of whooping. He frowned. This wasn't her. Rory as he knew her was studious and perfectionist of course and she could get her knickers in a bunch…which resulted in humorous sometimes slightly painful behaviour, but she was sweet and slightly shy. She didn't tell people off or yell at them for that matter. That was Paris' department.

"_Sorry." _she then spoke again a little put out.

"Don't apologize. You know what? Finish what you are doing, go home. Take a long bath and unwind."

"_I would give my right arm for a bath now,"_ she sighed. _"Reign check?"_

"Only if you still have 2 arms. I'm not too good with butt-ended limbs."

"_So if I got run over by a truck and brutally mutilated, you would…"_

"Drop you like a brick." He finished.

"_Nice. Really classy, Huntzberger…"_

"Do you have time to have this discussion with me?" he snickered.

"_No… I don't have time to breathe either, but I still do it. It's slightly beneficial for my overall health."_

"So I keep you sane?" he laughed leaning against the windowsill.

"_Maybe I'll see you at Finn's, ok? No promises."_

"Fair enough." Logan smirked, hanging up.

"Hey, dad." Louisa grinned appearing out of nowhere.

"Hello, daughter."

"Whatcha doing?" she asked.

"I just called Rory."

"For a play date?"

He laughed.  
"Yes…the sandbox is calling."

He looked down at her as she stretched up her arms to be lifted. With a sigh he pulled her up.

"Pinky, I think we ought to teach you how to walk. Because you are giving daddy a hernia…"

"What's a hernia?"

"It's what Uncle Finn had when he lifted the refrigerator all by himself."

"Why did he do that?"

"It's a mystery. Do you remember when I said that Uncle Finn is special?" The girl nodded.

"Well that day he thought he was special too…"

"Like Superman?"

"Yes, something like that, but without the super. Just a little too much…man." He winked.

Lou furrowed her eyebrows.

"Is he like Batman then? Does he need a suit?"

Another laugh echoed through the hallway.

"Exactly. Now lets get us some desert." He winked carrying her back to the dining room.

* * *

"Nigel!" Rory rose to her feet the bucket of caffeine firmly in her hand. "Ni-"

"Almost done!" a short man jumped up from behind a cubical in the newsroom and disappeared again.

"Good. That's good."

"Miss Gilmore, are you finished?"

Rory jumped up spilling her coffee all over her white blouse.

"Mister Keller…I…Nigel??...almost." she stammered trying to regain her composure.

"It's done!" Nigel yelled.

"Good…Yes, ok…almost. I…one sec." she ran off to Nigel and let her eyes run over the lines and nodding.

"Ok send this to Maria a.s.a.p."

"20 minutes, sir." She said with a pleading expression on her face.

The middle-aged man glanced at his watch.

"20 minutes, miss Gilmore. You are making me doubt your abilities as a copy editor. Get yourself organized for god's sake!"

"Yes, sir." Rory flinched, watching him leave and looked down at her stained blouse. With a sigh she went to look for Maria.

* * *

"Hey, honey," Peter kissed her forehead as she threw her coat over the armrest of the couch and draped herself over the couch itself.

"Tired?" he asked taking her coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

"Yeah… Keller is breathing down my neck and it's a mess there…I can see that too, but I'm not sure if I can turn it around. I thought I could. But I've been copyeditor for 2 months now and it's…" She buried her face in the pillows.

Peter sat down on the couch next to her.

"You'll do great. Give it time."

"How much?"

"As much as it takes. This is all you ever wanted, Ror. You can't just give up."

Rory sighed. Was this all she wanted? She wanted to become an overseas correspondent, but the closest she had gotten to that was a human interest piece on Cuba, written in Central Park a few summers ago. She had gotten that job at the New York Post and it seemed as a very good opportunity. She wrote taking on some administrative tasks as years progressed the equilibrium shifted; the writing disappearing to the background. But she liked her job. And Peter was right. She shouldn't just give up when it got hard.

"I love you." She smiled. Peter kissed her forehead with a smile.

"Love you too."

"I'm hungry."

"Want to order in?"

She nodded.

"Or we could grab a bite outdoors and go have a drink at Finn's."

"I thought you were tired." Peter raised his eyebrows.

"My head is tired. It's Friday night …I need to vent…and you could meet Logan." She offered.

"Logan…" Peter sighed. He couldn't help but feel a little green monster gnawing at him every time she uttered that name. At first he wanted to decline but maybe meeting the guy wouldn't be so much of a bad thing. He could see whom he was dealing with.

"Look we don't have to. I just…he called and said he would be there." She looked up at him.

"Ok. Lets go. I'm quite anxious to meet him."

"You are?" She gave him a radiant smile.

"I am." He nodded.

"Great! I'll jump in the shower and get out of this," she pointed at her stained silk blouse, getting off the couch and placed a kiss on his lips.

* * *

"Logan, mate!" Finn exclaimed as they firmly locked hands. "You made it."

"Just barely, Finn, just barely." Honor and Josh, having the perfect excuse, left right after desert, taking a full car of kids with them. Logan on other hand was not excused. He had spent another good hour exchanging pleasantries with his mother, who was of opinion that he had had enough mourning and should now remarry. Very conveniently the Hughes girl had broken up with her fiancé just last month. He wanted to gag, yet instead he maimed the silver spoon, he had gotten with his coffee, bending it all the way backwards and letting his mother talk away.

"What can I get you?" Finn asked. "I have your favourite."

Logan thought about it for a minute weighing it against orange juice. Oh what the hell, he nodded. He could get a cab.

"Macallan neat it is." He said grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey. This place really was nice; balancing between authentic and modern it was an oasis of relaxation. Logan smiled at the thought of them synchronically raising their eyebrows when he had told them 'THE PLAN'. Now 5 years later they got their doubt thrown back in their faces. Finn was doing great.

Logan sipped from the golden liquid and let it caress the roof of his mouth.

"This is good." He hummed, "21 years old?"

Finn grinned leading him to a 'booth' with comfortable red couches.

"21? Do you think so low of me? It is at least 22." He joked; glad his friend was back in proximity Logan smiled, but felt a little strange. Afraid things wouldn't be the same as they once had been. A visit once in a while was different from him living here again.

"Seriously how do you know?" he asked and Logan chuckled.

"I'm offended you even ask."

Finn shrugged.

"Booze is booze."

"Is Colin coming?" Logan asked swirling the drink in his hand.

"He said he was busy. So yes, he'll come."

Logan raised his eyebrows.

"It's Colin, mate. He is always busy. If he is not working, he is colour coordinating his undies and he still always comes. The bloke likes to whine."

Logan chuckled. That much was true.

"Reporter girl?" Finn questioned.

"I'm not sure. She was on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"So she is probably in bed with what's his name."

"Peter, Finn. Peter."

"Oh who is keeping count? She has a new bloke every other week."

"That's Stephanie, my friend." Logan laughed.

"Oh right. Is she coming?"

"I don't know you were supposed to call her."

"No I wasn't." he let his hand come down on to the table.

"Yes you were! I would call Rory; you would call Colin and Steph."

"I was calling Colin! Colin and no one but Colin!" he stated adamantly.

"Did I hear my name being uttered in vein?" Both men looked into Colin's face. Logan raised his eyebrows at the sight of some fuzz on his chin.

"What is that?" he asked.

"What is what?" Colin furrowed his eyebrows sliding on to the couch.

"That…fluff on your chin."

"That's a beard!" he exclaimed indigenised.

"It's a faze." Finn waved it aside, "Do you remember the sideburns?"

"That,Colin," Logan pointed, "Is not a beard. And yes," he grinned, "the sideburns."

"Those bushes of pubic hair in front of his ears…" Finn sighed dramatically, "Our little boy wore them with such pride."

"I can't believe you two…" Colin murmured eyeing his friends who now really seemed to get the hang of it.

"He really thought women were attracted to them… In the best case they took him for a stray." Finn laughed.

"Yes…how pitiful." Logan sipped from his drink, "Who are we trying to impress?"

"I…stop mocking or I'll leave!"

"Stephanie of course!" Finn chirped completely ignoring his threat, "Whom we've forgotten. Well you have."

"I resent that… So is this crush still going on or again?"

"I never-" Colin started but was cut off by Finn.

"Still. He has been running circles around her for so long that I think the Grand Canyon has some competition."

"Hear hear," Logan clung his glass with Finn's imaginary one.

"I need a drink, an assassin and-"

"A razor." Both Finn and Logan spoke in unison.

The brunette rolled his eyes and got up to get himself a drink.

"And would you mind calling Stephanie?" Logan shouted after him getting a death glare and smiled. Maybe things between them hadn't changed all that much after all.

* * *

She looked amazing in the black chiffon scarf top and black skinny jeans, her hair was still damp, casually hugging her face. She had applied a little make-up and perfume.

"Wow." Peter could only say, "I feel underdressed."

She chuckled grabbing her purse and seized him up; the slacks and light blue shirt.

"You're not. Have you ever seen Finn? If you don't remember, that's the guy who wore a T-shirt with '_Hotmale_' on it to Ramona's wedding."

"Well I guess Microsoft was pleased."

She laughed putting on her coat, suddenly in high heeled boots.

"Come on." She took his hand and howled him out the door.

Peter watched almost with pain as she worked away a burger, fries and a piece of blueberry pie as desert in a diner on the way to Finn's bar. She was a machine.

"Are you going to finish that?" she asked eyeing his plate. He shook his head sliding it to her.

"You know I can practically see your veins screaming for mercy."

"My veins are fine. They are drugged with saturated fats."

"Comforting."

When she was finally finished he hailed down a cab and helped her in.

"How gentlemanly of you." She snickered.

"I know, ain't it?"

She laughed feeling strangely giddy after such a long and stressful week.

Suddenly her phone rang and she picked it up positioning it in the crook of her neck.

"_Ace! Still alive?" _She held the phone further from her ear, all kinds of noise filling it.

"I am… We are on our way to meet you. Peter and I. You are still at Finn's I presume?"

"_Yes we are…Steph…Stephanie get your finger out of my ear! I'll see you soon, then? Go away! Lord and stay away from the bar."_

"You will. Bye." She hung up with a chuckle and turned to Peter.

"Brace yourself."

"Why?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Trust me…"

They entered the crowded bar in the heart of Manhattan and let the sounds and colors capture them. Peter looked around. It was not a place he would enter with his friends. He preferred an all American bar where he could watch a Knicks game while enjoying a beer. This place was swarming with the bold and the beautiful. Yuppies drinking cocktails that looked as glamorous as they. How Rory could feel at home here, he could never understand. Yet she did, making her way through the place as if she owned it. He didn't like the guys staring at her one bit. Suddenly she had morphed into this whole other woman. He followed her as she walked up to the intimidating bouncer standing in front of stairs leading up and got a smile out of him.

"Have fun." He said raising his eyebrows when Peter attempted to climb those stairs as well.

"He is with me, Gunter." She told him and the giant of a man averted his frosty gaze.

Up the stares there seemed to be a private lounge overseeing the rest of the bar, red sofas a pool table and 3 men laughing while a blond woman was trying to get one of the balls in a hole.

"Stop it!" she laughed doubling over the table. "Stop it or I will pee myself! Rory! Hey!" She dropped the cue and came running towards her enveloping her in a bear hug.

"Hey you," Rory laughed, "You know Peter."

"I most certainly do, can I get you a drink?"

"Uh…sure…beer?"

"Okidoki!" she chirped.

"Ace!" Peter seized up the blond man coming their way. He was in the end of his twenties, maybe the beginning of his thirties, yet his haircut was that of an 8-yearold. He moved in a self-assured way, the tailored suit probably worth a month's salary. He didn't like it the way his unbuttoned shirt showed his collarbones, he didn't like his smirk, and he sure as hell didn't like the way he kissed _his _girlfriend. It was a peck on the cheek but it still made his stomach twist.

"Is your staff still alive?" he asked and got an eye roll.

"Yes they are. This is Peter." She turned around.

"Ah the infamous boyfriend. Nice to meet you. Logan Huntzberger." He extended his hand and Peter hesitantly accepted it.

"Peter Bower."

**TBC…**

**AN: So here it was :) I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! Cheers! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I owed Gilmore Girls. **

**AN: So here it is, chapter 6. See? I've bettered myself :P. Lol. Thank you all so much for all the reviews and for not leaving me despite my lack of updates :) You rock my metaphorical socks! Now this chapter was actually the first of this story that just flowed out of my fingers, so I hope you like it. So please please please review!!! **

_**Chapter 6: Calling the bets. **_

"So how did you and Rory meet?" Peter asked taking a swing of his beer. They were sitting on adjoining couches. Rory next to Peter and Logan was sitting on the other one his arm casually slung over the back of it.

"We went to Yale together. I told you." Rory answered for him.

"I know but Yale is a big place."

"We worked at the campus paper together. Well I did." Rory snickered.

"Hey!" Logan laughed, "I contributed in my very own special way."

"Sure you did. No one got Doyle's blood pressure to such heights."

"I wrote –"

"Wacky limericks all in between my notes don't count!" Rory interjected.

"Poetry, Ace, poetry. And I wrote that review on that Italian film festival for you. You never thanked me for that one, by the way."

"You completely trashed it into the ground!"

"Well it was a horrid festival. A little too much close-up's of Fabio's penis."

Rory rolled her eyes.

"Artistic nudity."

"Low-budget porn."

"You are such a guy."

"And you are such a girl…"

Peter looked from one to another. They seemed to have completely forgotten about him, having an utterly pointless discussion. He gave her a once over. She was laughing, her blue eyes sparkling as she absently played with the lemon peel in her smoky martini. _Smoky martini_. He didn't know she drank anything else than an occasional wine, let alone martini's and ones with scotch at that. And then the way she carried herself, it was confident, cheeky even.Suddenly Stephanie draped herself over Logan's lap.

"Logan," she started looking into his eyes earnestly.

"Yes, Stephanie?"

"From one blonde to another… we are hot, right? No harm intended, sweetie." She turned to Rory.

He snickered. "You bet we are."

"Yup. I told them so." She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Do you think I'm drunk?"

He raised his eyebrows, an amused spark lighting them up.

"Nah…"

"I'm going to tell them. Tell them that I am hot." She got up again.

"You go do that." Logan snickered.

"Whoops!" she tumbled back into his lap and he pushed the intoxicated woman up.

"Thanks, babe." She snickered, "I'll join you kids later. First… Mai Tai time!"

"How many did she have?" Rory snickered once she had left.

"I've lost count. Oh well…it's an annual thing."

"An annual thing?" Peter raised his eyebrows.

"Yep." Rory giggled.

"You know…birds migrating south, penguins marching…" Logan explained. Peter furrowed his eyebrows.

"Stephanie gets completely sloshed once a year." Rory finished.

"Tomorrow she will be puking all day and adamantly pledging she won't ever drink again..."

"Till next year." They both said and let out a laugh.

"Why once a year?" Peter wondered.

Rory shrugged.  
"I guess it's because she is a carrier woman now…She used to get completely drunk frequently in college." Logan mused, with a snicker, "Can't even remember how many times I've carried her home."

"Well that was Stephanie. We are talking 115 pounds here. I've had to carry **you** home." Rory laughed.

"What?" Logan raised one eyebrow, unable to recollect an experience of sorts.

"Finn's 22nd birthday party. You were so wasted that you were talking to a fire extinguisher in the hallway and passed out on my floor. I dragged you. Yes. Dragged you on the couch."

"I can't remember that." He laughed.

"After the amount you drank, I'm surprised you remember anything at all."

"Don't be sassy, hon. Who held your hair back while **you** were hugging the toilet?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. Rory drunk was not something he had sought behind her.

"My hairclip? And I can count the times I've been hanging over the toilet on the fingers of one hand."

Logan smirked. 2 years they had spent together at Yale, 2 years almost to the day since he had found her wandering the halls with a map in search of the news room. He had found her attractive, all ready to woo her, but boy when the girl opened her mouth. She was probably the only woman that had told him off in such a royal way; not counting Paris that is, but he had to be on the verge of a mental breakdown to make a pass at that woman. However, she had captured his attention and although she denied it to the grave. He had hers too. It took him a month to charm himself into her heart and he knew he had, when she brought him to Stars Hollow. That probably was the ultimate test. But he had loved her mother, he had loved her town and although he wouldn't say it out loud afraid of bodily harm, he thought Taylor was an absolute genius. He had felt sad when he boarded that plane to London, leaving the gang and Rory, who had become a part of them, behind, but he had spent the whole summer in Stars Hollow with her, he had flown in for her graduation and Christmas and it had become a tradition to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day in Dublin. And when he wanted Laura to meet his family, he had introduced her to Finn, Colin and Stephanie and had brought her to Stars Hollow, to meet Rory and Lorelai.

"Logan?"

"Huh?"

"You completely zoned out on me again. Everything okay?" Rory asked.

"Yeah… Shira drains the mind."

"In-laws?" Peter asked.

"I wish… No, my flesh and blood. Although I'm only 90 percent certain that she is human. My mother that is. So where did you attend college?" Logan adressed Peter.

"Atlanta. Georgia med. Not a hot-shot university as yours, but it got me where I wanted to be."

Logan smirked. "Being a doctor?"

"Yes, a paediatric surgeon"

"Nobel profession." He smirked.

"Some are more than others." Peter said, looking Logan in the eye, yet the blond man didn't seem undone by the statement. He simply stared back, a smug smirk playing on his lips as if he was inviting him to insult him even more. He hated that smirk already.

"So how did you get into Yale?" he asked, "Rory worked her ass off for it."

"Peter…" Rory started.

"Daddy's money." He didn't miss a beat, throwing him off a little.

"Logan!" Rory shook her head.

"That's what you want to hear, isn't it? So here you go. I'm providing you with the cliché you are wishing for." He ignored her.

"Would you two stop?!" Both men lay their eyes on a much frazzled Rory.

"I'm not ashamed of the fact that I'm privileged. You better look at whom you're dating, my friend."

"Logan…"

"No Rory," he sipped from his scotch and looked at Peter again, "I grew up with a 7 digit trust fund, and I'm not going to apologize for it. My daughter also has a trust fund as does she go to a highly privileged school. Why would I be ashamed of that? If I can give her that, why shouldn't I? You can sit there, high on your moral superiority, but if you had the recourses I have…you would do the same."

Peter didn't quite understand how Rory could be such good friends with a guy that seemed to defy everything she believed in.

"So you don't mind that all people see when they look at you is your fathers money?"

Logan shrugged, smirking.

"If all people see is a rich kid that doesn't know what he's doing it merely works in my advantage."

"But how can you not care that you only have the job you have because of your blood?"

"Peter, enough." Rory interrupted.

"I've earned where I am. I work long days and sometimes weekends and hollidays. I get a salary that is no more than any other person in that same position. And frankly I'm done explaining myself."

"Gentlemen!" Finn exclaimed, "And gentle lady." He winked at Rory, "How about a game of Poker? The dealer has arrived."

"I'm in." Logan smirked.

"Reporter Girl?"

"I think I'll watch." Rory smiled brightly, relieved that this tête-à-tête was interrupted.

"Peter?"

He nodded getting up.

"We are not playing in millions here, are we?" he asked, only half joking.

Finn shook his head, patting him on the shoulder.  
"We're playing in women."

Rory rolled her eyes with a chuckle, but she felt awkward. One part wanted to hit Peter in the head for being such an ass…an other knew that he technically was right. She too had thought exactly the same thing when she met Logan for the first time. That didn't change the lesson she had learned though. Don't judge a book by it's cover, and don't judge people by their wallet. She followed the men to the poker table and installed herself next to Peter, hoping that he would learn the same lesson soon.

* * *

"Must be tough on the girl." Peter concluded, after Logan had briefly summarized the events of the last months, "Moving to another continent, father barely around, no mother—" For a brief moment he saw pain flash through those dark eyes and he knew he had hit a sore spot, though that moment was brief and he regained composure soon. The table fell silent for a couple of seconds. He saw Rory's face pale, as she stood up from the table and made her way down the stairs. 

"I call and raise 20." Logan's voice seemed to cut through the silence like a knife.

"I fold." Peter said.

"I fold as well." Finn followed putting his cards down.

Colin played with his 'beard' for a while before calling.

"I'm going to find Rory," Peter said getting up, closely followed by Finn.

"Oy, mate!" he called. Peter turned around. Let's go outside for a while, smoke these gorgeous cigars.

"I need to find –" he started.

"Leave her for a sec, mate. You want to spare yourself."

"What?"

"She will majorly kick you in the balls for that stunt you pulled back there." Finn said pushing him to the balcony.

"What?"

"Look, a piece of advice here. If you want to keep her, stop badgering Logan. I'd fondly hit you square in the nose myself, but I can't do that, can I now."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are a tactless, jealous bastard, that's what I'm talking about. You have no idea what that man has been through and you frankly have no idea what he means to us. Every single one of us in that room, except for Steph maybe who is dead to the world on the couch, wanted to hit you in the head with a heavy blunt object. Open your eyes, Peter. If you are going to keep this up, you are going to lose Rory. Rory was the one who reminded him to breathe those first few weeks after Laura died; she was the one who has seen him at his worst. You throw a remark like that at Logan, and she feels the same amount of pain."

Peter simply stared at the man, he up till now had seen as a constantly drunk lunatic.

"I was just making an observation." He uttered, "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"You didn't mean to hurt his feelings? And you have a college degree?! Seriously, mate. There are a few things you do not say to a widower. **That **being one of them!"

* * *

Rory splashed some water in her face. She was so mad at him, she was feeling sick. She saw the pain in Logan's eyes. It was brief, but it was there. How could the man she loved, say something so hateful to her best friend? She leaned against a wall and closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to collect her thoughts. What a horrible horrible week this had been. She suddenly jumped up when her phone started vibrating in her pocket and pulled it out and read the text. 

_You ok, Ace? Cause I am. Please, come back. L. _

She knew he would say that just to make her feel better, but nevertheless left the ladies room and made her way back to the table. Logan winked, with a reassuring smile, as she sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry, Logan."

"It's ok." He said, patting her knee, "I'm not made out of glass."

"I just --, I don't know what to think."

"Promise me something." He then said.

"What?"

"Don't start a big fight about this with Peter."

"Logan…"

"Promise me, Ace. Coming between you two is the last thing I need on my plate right now." He urged her.

"Don't make this your fault."

"Ace…" he groaned, "please?"

"If the roles were reversed, what would you do?" she asked.

"I wouldn't do anything." He answered quickly.

"Liar." She smiled.

"Thank you for caring, Ace, but I can't keep living under this umbrella. It's time to get wet."

She smiled, biting her lip.

"You promise?" he asked once more.

"I promise," she sighed, "but I can scold him a little."

"A little 'you forgot the milk' scold."

"No, more of a 'you forgot the coffee' scold."

"I'm that important to ya, huh?" he smirked.

"Yes, you are."

In the corner of her eye she spotted Finn and Peter returning from the balcony and sighed. "I think we had enough for the evening."

"Don't leave on my behalf."

"I'm leaving on mine… and his," she nodded towards Peter.

"Hello, children!" Finn boomed cheerfully, a timid looking Peter only a few steps behind him.

"It's time to go." Rory said to Peter, who only nodded. He watched as she said her goodbyes, hugging each of them and leaving Stephanie a little note. She then walked passed him and down the stairs. He trailed behind her, letting her be mad. Once outside he opened his mouth but was cut off by Rory who turned around, eyes spitting fire.

"How dare you?!" she yelled, "You are so not the man I thought you were."

With that she turned around again.

"I'm sorry, Rory. I didn't think at the moment. I can go back up there and apologize if that's what you want me to do."

She didn't say anything and raised her arm to hail a cab.

"Rory?"

"Don't Rory me, Peter," she said with almost frightening calmness, "I don't know what you have against Logan. You have been acting like a complete ass ever since my birthday."

"I don't know…" he shrugged, "I don't like him. Is that what you want to hear? He is not my kind of person and I'm not going to kiss his ass, just because everyone else does."

"There is a big line between not kissing ass and being one. You have crossed that line by more than one Manhattan."

Another taxi rushed by without stopping and Rory groaned. She simply wanted to go home.

"Rory," he touched her arm, but she shrugged his hand off, finally getting a hold of a cab and getting in.

Peter leaned against the car bending over to be able to face her.

"You going to your place?"

"Yes." She answered curtly.

"Can I call you tomorrow?"

She looked at him.

"I don't know. You need to come to terms with Logan being in my life, Peter, because he is not going anywhere."

Peter sighed. She hadn't said it, but it was loud and clear. Logan wasn't going anywhere, but he apparently was if he couldn't get along with the man.

"Goodnight." He said.

"Night." She faintly murmured and he closed the door, watching as the yellow taxi disappeared in the sea of cars. He looked up the façade of the building and took a deep breath contemplating whether to go in and apologize, but he saw the blond man appearing outside just as those thoughts started swimming in his head. He cleared his throat.

"Logan…"

Logan turned around, looking him in the eye.

"Yes, Peter," he sighed.

"I --, I apologize if what I said in there insulted you." He drew out.

Logan nodded steering his gaze to the ground and when he looked up again a smirk was in place.

"You don't like me." He stated and Peter searched for words, but Logan continued.

"I don't know why and frankly I don't care. I'm not on a mission to become your best friend. But from one man that loves her to another, if you hurt her I will kill you."

Peter squinted. That statement didn't make him look as vulnerable as everyone thought he was.

"I don't intend to hurt her," he said, "And you are right. I don't like you."

"As long as you keep to that first part, you won't have any trouble with me. And I don't like you either to be frank. You know what they say. It's the scared dogs that show their teeth."

Peter raised his eyebrows, desperately wanting to shoot something back at him but biting his tongue.

"My profession might not be as noble as yours, Peter, but it has given me insight in people. Have a good night and I'll see you around. Hopefully on better terms." With that he got into a cab and drove off. Peter ran a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth. A pub across the street caught his eye and he crossed it. He needed a drink to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *

Logan shut the door of the apartment and made his way into the kitchen pouring himself a drink. Without turning on the lights he padded to his bedroom and sat down on the bed. He looked around the room, full of un-unpacked boxes. He got up opening one and pulling out a picture. Laura's radiant smile reached him and he swallowed. He let himself down on the bed taking a sip of his scotch and let his thumb stroke her face. He missed her laugh, her spirit, her passion. Whether she was happy or mad…it was always there. BAM like fireworks. He saw that streak in Louisa. The southern temperament. He wasn't sure yet whether that was a good or a bad thing, but the girl tapped her little foot, and pointed that finger like the real thing. 

"What am I going to do without you?" he murmured finishing his scotch in a couple of big gulps and laying down. The light on the nightstand made the picture clearer, her smile even brighter. Angrily he wiped away a tear that threatened to leave his eye and set the picture onto the nightstand against the glass. If he knew people so well, why couldn't he figure himself out? Why was life throwing these major tantrums? he felt drained, his eyelids heavy. He stared at the picture, till sleep pulled him under and he couldn't do much more than close his eyes, surrendering his body to oblivion.

* * *

Logan took a deep breath and grabbed the crimper hold unhooking his legs and reached for the hold a good meter to the side, when the phone in his pocket started ringing. First he ignored it, assessing the uncomfortable position he was in hanging with his back to the wall, the grip his fingers had on it not too tight. He sighed and let go, pulling out his phone and answering it while dangling in his harness 32 feet above ground. 

"Hey." He said wiping his free hand on his pants, leaving white chalk traces.

"_Hey."_ Rory's voice filled his ear, _"Whatcha doing?"_

He steered his eyes to the few feet still left to the top and then to the ground below him, the people looking mighty small.

"Dangling…"

"_Dangling?" _

"Im at the gym…currently, dangling."

"_Climbing gym?" _

"Yep."

"_Logan, how high are you?" _

"I've been higher—"

"_I meant as in distance to the ground."_ He could practically see her eye roll and smirked.

"That too…about 32 feet."

"_And you are talking to me on the phone."_ She deadpanned.

"Yes I am. One second." He put the phone back in his pocket and released the safety on the belay making a controlled fall down, lightly touching the ground. He unhooked himself and retrieved his phone.

"Ok I'm on your level now."

"_You are insane." _She stated.

"All is relative, Ace." He smirked opening a bottle of water.

"_Yeah yeah…but you defy the relative. Listen, I just wanted to say that Peter was a jerk to you last night, and that he had no right. I know I said it yesterday, but…" _

"It's fine." He stated curtly trying to ban the headache that was forming away.

"_No it isn't. I didn't buy it last night, Logan and I don't buy it now." _

"It is, Rory. Drop it."

There was a silence and he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I just had a scotch too many last night. I have a headache, but nothing I can't kill with a couple of pills."

"_You know that's not what I meant."_ She said in a soft voice.

"I don't know," he then sighed, "I need to climb another wall in order to figure out whether I'm okay."

"_Tell you what: You climb that wall, then come back to Manhattan and have coffee with me." _

"Rory…you don't need to sacrifice your Saturday for me. You've done enough."

"_A-a-a. Shoosh. Get your butt up that wall, and then back to the city. Chop chop." _

He smiled with a sigh. There was no getting around her and somewhere he was greatful for it.  
"The Boathouse in say hour and a half?"

"_If you are even a minute late, you are going to find my emaciated coffee deprived corps in front of the door." _

"Oh my…" he grinned, "Can't let that happen. I'll be there."

"_Good. Bye and for god's sake don't kill yourself. Are you at least roped up?" _

He let out a loud laugh.

"Yes. All safety regulations are kept in mind. And you do know that I am going to rope you up one of these days?"

"_I can't hear you. I think I'm driving into a tunnel."_ She made cracking noises.

"What tunnel? Your pillowcase?"

"_What? I—"_

"Are still in bed." He grinned.

"_No fun. You know me too well." _

An image of her in bed, pouting flashed through his head and he smiled.

"I'll see you soon."

"_Bye." _

* * *

"Talk to me." Rory encouraged, wiping the remains of her bagel off her coat as they strolled over a little bridge in a barren November Central Park, both with a hot cup in their hands. Logan sighed studying his coffee. 

"I'm not enough. Not even close."

Rory furrowed her eyebrows.

"Not enough what?"

"Not enough for Lou. Besides the fact that I'm working 11-12 hours a day and the fact that I dragged her half across the globe, I'm not—"

"Logan. That is not true. You are a great father. You would do anything for that girl. You do anything for that girl. Peter had no right to fill your head with that crap. I frankly don't understand what is wrong with the man."

"It's not Peter, Ace, not directly. This has been in my head for a while now." He sighed looking over the water.

Rory touched his arm as a silent sign to continue.

"She needs a mother, Rory. Now more than ever and I think maybe it's time… Maybe it's time for me to move on. But it's not like I'm shopping for a new toaster."

"There hasn't been anyone since Laura?"

He shook his head.

"No, there hasn't. Do you think it's time? My mother has been nagging about it. Maybe she is right."

"Things like this don't have a time limit, Logan. When you're ready, you'll know, I guess."

"I just really wish that there would be some rulebook for this. Sometimes I wonder whether I'll ever love someone else. Is there one person for each one of us and that when that person falls away we are left standing alone? Is the ONE really the ONE? Is it possible for me to be happy with someone else and not feel like I'm dealing with a substitute or feel like I'm doing something wrong? Women to me – I find attractive, I enjoy talking to them but they don't," he leaned against the railing, "they are just that. Meaningless. Do you think that I'll ever be able to feel again?"

Rory tried to form a cohesive sentence. Her brain was doing overtime but the answer didn't seem to roll out.

"You feel now too, Logan. You haven't lost the ability to feel. If you had it wouldn't hurt so much, if you had you wouldn't care."

"But I don't … I don't."

"You do, Logan. Maybe you care too much even. You are so busy trying to please everyone around you that you forget that it's okay to feel crappy."

He let out a sigh that seemed to be carried away by the wind in an endless echo.

"But it's **not** only me, Rory, I can't overlook Louisa. She is hurting too. And the things I sometimes hear leaving her mouth… Yesterday she said to me that life wasn't fair. A seven-year old. And she does not completely understand the meaning of that," he paused, "yet. But she will in a little while and it's going to be way too soon. She is my baby, Ace. And the feeling that I can't protect her, can't even provide a stable home for her... You don't have kids, Ace, so you don't fully understand, but it's horrible."

Somehow she felt saddened by that statement, by the fact that there was something she couldn't understand of him. Something he couldn't talk about with her. It almost came as a shock. Rory Gilmore couldn't fix all. She really wished that she could help him, ease his mind. The truth was she was a bystander, she couldn't possibly imagine how it had to feel to lose a spouse, the parent of your child. She steered her gaze over the water as well. She had held him during those first moments, figuratively staunching the bleeding, but now, now it were his scars that were hurting and there was little she could do to remedy that.

"I—I'm sorry," she uttered.

"You're sorry?" he asked with genuine surprise. "Whatever for?"

"That I can't help you, that I can't do anything."

"Ace…" He pulled her in a hug, kissing her head. "Having you as a friend is the largest help you can give me. You get my mind off things and when necessary you get my mind on things. So if there is anyone who has to apologize…it's me, the one doing all the whining."

"I missed you," she said looking up at him, "I missed you close."

"Yeah…we had too little time."

"For what?" she asked.

"I don't know. To just be carefree I guess. Our friendship has seen way too much crap over the years and not enough of each other."

"Yet we are still standing here, years later. So this either strengthened our friendship or it was strong to begin with."

"Well of course it was strong. How can it not be strong with me, being the rock in the rip current that I am, as a part of it."

Rory rolled her eyes, smirking.

"Boy, that ego of yours…do you need a separate passport for it?"

Logan let out a chuckle.

"Nah…They do charge extra on luggage though."

Rory let out a laugh and furrowed her eyebrows when something wet and cold descended upon her nose. Another one hit her hand and she realized it was snowing.

They both looked at the grey sky that now was shedding little white flocks. Rory spread her arms and closed her eyes as a breathtaking smile crept up her red lips and Logan couldn't help but smile at her blissfulness.

"You know," she said looking at him, "Good things happen when it snows."

The smile reached his dark brown eyes as well. _Maybe they did. _

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Right so…indeed…this took me 14 months. Horrible, but as I said before I am not one to give up and all of a sudden I got the urge to write for this story. My writing has changed over time (as I suppose is only logical) but I have decided to let that slide or I will never get anything done. Lol. Im de-hiatussing this story and I really hope it will be permanent. Now, I am leaving for 6 weeks next Friday and I am still busy with finals (it should be illegal, if you ask me) so I don't know when I will update again, let's hope in 6 weeks. As for my other stories…I will do my best to find time to update them before I leave. :) I know I have been very very bad and I apologize sincerely… 'Insert remorseful bambi-eyes here' Please read and tell me what you think! :) **

_**Chapter 7 **_

_**Spaghetti and meatballs**_

"I hear you," Logan leaned back in the leather chair, "But that doesn't change the fact that we are over our FTE budget. Now I am not here to fire people, but we need to downsize somehow. So Hugh, you are going up to human recourses. I want all the data of the last 5 years. That means everything."

"It's a mess up there!" Hugh groaned.

"Well then it's time someone cleaned it up." He turned on the desk chair to face the woman sitting on his right, "Sara, I want you to make up a circulation report of the last quarter."

"Do you want to compare it to last year?" the redhead asked. Logan smirked.

"As a matter of fact I would."

"Alaric –"

"Mister Huntzberger?" his secretary interrupted, sticking her head around the door.

"Yes, Fanny."

"There is a phone call for you," the middle-aged woman said.

"I'm in the middle of a meeting, take a message, please."

"It's your daughter's school."

Logan raised his eyebrows, all kinds of scenarios flashing through his mind.

"Ehm…Alaric, James, I'll talk to you about the publisher's statement later today, okay? Now if you would excuse me."

"Do you want us to wait?"

"No, no…I will find you." He got up leaving the meeting room and closing the door behind him as he picked up the phone receiver.

"Logan Huntzberger speaking." He said.

"_Mister Huntzberger, this is Mrs.Holdsworth, I am—" _

"Yes, yes, you are the principal at my daughter's school. What happened?" He asked impatiently clicking his pen.

"_Well Louisa has gotten into a fight." _

"Oh my God, is she okay? How did she get involved in a fight?"

"_Mister Huntzberger, your daughter initiated this misdemeanour,"_ the principal spoke, Logan's hand seizing its neurotic clicking for a split second.

"She WHAT?!"

"_Your daughter has attacked a fellow student during lunch break."_

"This must be a misunderstanding. My **7 year old **daughter couldn't have possibly started a fight."

"_And yet she did. Now, both the boy in question and Louisa are in my office."_

"She attacked a boy?"

"_I'm afraid she did."_

He stared into space blankly.

"Is…I mean they are okay aren't they?"

"_There are some bruises and ripped pants, other than that I think the largest victim was the lunchbox, that started this unfortunate event_." Logan raised his eyebrows. This got more complicated by the second.

"I'm on my way," he then said flinging down the phone. From the closet he grabbed his coat and scarf and a blue syllabus from his desk.

"Fanny?" he called putting on his coat.

"Yes, sir."

"Could you cancel all my meetings for today and give Alaric this prospectus?"

"Is everything alright?" Fanny asked looking at him over the rim of her glasses a concerned almost motherly expression playing on her features.

"I'm not sure yet. Apparently my daughter beat up a boy."

"Oh my!"

"Indeed."

"Would you like for me to call the driver?"

"No, thank you. Just make sure everything is rescheduled."

"I will, sir." She smiled and Logan managed to reciprocate in kind, before almost running out of the building and onto the street.

"Amsterdam Avenue," he told the cabdriver and pulled his cell phone out of the coat pocket.

* * *

"_My daughter beat up a boy!" _

Rory held the phone further from her ear and mouthed thank you to her assistant who left the room.

"What do you mean she beat up a boy?" she asked sitting down in her chair.

"_I got a call from school. Apparently my daughter, my flesh and blood, attacked some boy. Now I find that rather hard to believe, but there is a lunchbox involved, and bruises and ripped pants and I…"_

"Logan breathe!" She interrupted his rant.

"_What do I do? Do I yell at her? Do I ground her? This has never happened before. Of all the crap she has pulled. And she is 7 for heavens sake. What happens when she is 17? The kid is totally derailed! She will grow up to be Paris Hilton or that other one Nicole what's her name! I cannot handle to be Paris Hilton's father."_

"She won't be Paris Hilton, Logan. You would never let that happen. Now…please as you said she is 7, not 17, so relax. Maybe she had a good reason."

"_A good reason? For all I know that kid has a hole in his head because she trashed his scull with a lunchbox or oh my god! What if he trashed her scull with a lunchbox??"_

Rory tried her best to contain her laughter.

"Logan… the state of share panic doesn't suit you. Please asses situation first, freak out later?" She heard a chuckle and smirked.

"_How have you been, Ace? Haven't talked to you in a while."_

"Yeah," she sighed, "It seems that we talk less since you moved back."

A smile tugged at her mouth when he uttered the exact same thought at the exact same moment.

"_Care to come over tonight? Somebody has to keep me calm."_

"I'd love to sedate you, but it's our anniversary." A month had passed since the not so successful meeting in the bar. And since no solution was found for the situation, they had chosen to not talk about the issue. Logan didn't come up in conversation with Peter and Rory left out as much of Peter as she could when talking to Logan. Whoever said that ignorance was bliss was absolutely right.

"_Ah…what hotel exactly do I not want to stay at after this?"_

Rory rolled her eyes, but didn't get the chance to answer.

"_I'm here, Ace. I'll tell you everything later. Have fun tonight."_

"I will. Good luck. Remember: breathing good."

"_Thanks. Bye"_

The phone barely touched the paper covered surface of her desk when it started vibrating yet again. Rory picked it up automatically assuming Logan had a second crisis.

"Stop freaking out in advance!" she laughed.

"_What?"_

"Oh Peter, hey, thought you were somebody else."

* * *

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He had a very strong feeling about who that 'somebody else' was and he let out a distressed sigh. They may have silently agreed to not talk about the issue anymore, but it ate at him even more, because now he had completely no idea what the two of them did. Rory simply didn't talk about it.

"_Are you there?"_

"Yeah, I am. Sorry. Look, you are going to hate me for this but…" He started.

"_Peter…"_ She stretched. _"It's our anniversary."_

"I know, babe, and I wish I could just ignore that conference in Denver…"

"_Denver? Peter.. I… can't you not go?"_

"I really should."

"_But it's our anniversary! How often does a couple have an anniversary. And if you say once a year I'm gonna scream!"_

"Come with me."

"_I have to work, Peter. I can't just drop anything."_He heard her sigh.

"Well neither can I. You could take a couple of days off."

* * *

There it was. A true Cold War situation. Two seven year olds with angry scowls on their faces and their arms stubbornly crossed in front of their chests sitting in the middle of the principals room, heads demonstratively turned to opposite directions. Mrs. Holdsworth was sitting at her desk, writing. Logan cleared his throat and the woman looked up. He felt as if it was him all over again being called in to the principals office. The look she gave him made him almost cringe. With a fast glance he made sure that at least no visible body parts were missing from his daughter's body and her scull seemed to be intact. He let out a breath. That was good.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, "I came as fast as I could."

She cocked an eyebrow and got up from the desk chair.

"Your daughter needs discipline, Mr. Huntzberger, and quite some of it. Her behaviour has been despicable ever since she joined our school. Now I do not make the habit of calling my pupil's parents for nothing, but today a line was crossed and this worries me extremely." She pushed her glasses further up her nose and Logan nodded vehemently, still fighting the strange feeling that it was him who was getting scolded. Felt odd to be in a principals office without actually having done anything or the possibility of having done anything. Rather amusing also.

"Mr. Huntzberger!"

He jumped up once again focussing on the sour woman in front of him.

"This girl is a loose cannon." She pointed at Louisa who gave him eyes resembling a stranded seal pup.

"I know she can be a handful…" he tried to neutralize the statement just made by the principal.

"A handful?" Mrs. Holdsworth cocked a second eyebrow looking ever so more like a witch, "The girl is uncontrollable."

"She has had a tough time. We moved across the Atlantic and before that her mother passed away. I work a lot. It hasn't been the easiest period in our lives. I'm not saying this is a justification, but it certainly should—"

"Indeed it is not!" the woman chided and he almost audibly clenched his jaw a dull ache nestling in his stomach, his eyes drifting to Louisa who was now staring at the carpet, dangling her legs on the chair that prohibited her feet to touch the ground.

"What about the boy?" he then asked making the skinny lad in question look up at him, "Is he a completely innocent party in this? Besides I do not see his parents present here." Mrs. Holdsworth' small acerbic mouth shrunk to the size of a shrivelled raisin as she contemplated the questions.

"I will not have you insulting me or my daughter for that matter. As a matter of fact, I refuse to listen to this any longer. Louisa, apologize," he looked at her and saw her facial expression darken. This emotional storm cumulated into a determined "No".

"Louisa…" he lowered his voice.

"Why doesn't he have to apologize?" she whined.

"He will." Logan assured only to be cut off with a cross "No I won't!" from the boy. He raised his eyebrows at the two children and rubbed his face. He could lead a company, he could orchestrate deals between parties that seemed to be impossible to reconcile and here he was stuck in the middle of an argument between two seven year olds and he was feeling helpless.

"And why is that?" he asked the boy.

"She ruined my pants," he declared with a sneer, seemingly not intimidated by his age or size. Logan looked at the boy's pants that were torn at the knee, "And she started!"

"No, you started!" Louisa shot back.

"Na-ah! You did!"

"Don't be such a baby!"

"Guys…" Logan tried to soothe before this would result in hospital visits to tend to ripped out eyeballs and knocked out teeth.

All three of them jumped up as Mrs. Holdsworth collided her ruler with the hard surface of her desk.

"Enough!" She shouted, "This is not how civilized citizens act!" Logan furrowed his brows. As if seven year olds could comprehend civilization. All they cared about was Sponge Bob and star shaped macaroni. This woman was completely unable to understand the psyche of children that young nor did she seem to try. How she had gotten this position was beyond his comprehension as he told her just that. The principal's eyes grew and her pallid skin turned ever so slightly pink at her indignation.

"I believe, Mr. Huntzberger, that you have no right to criticize my abilities as a docent at this institution. Especially since your abilities as a parent to Louisa seem to have been less than fruitful."

He raised his eyebrow at her retort for a moment too stunned to reply then an anger building inside him he could barely control.

"Oh I can, Mrs. Holdsworth," he said through clenched teeth, "For as long as I am paying tuition and the…may I say very generous grants." With that he seized Louisa's arm pulling her off the chair and leaving the room.

"Are you mad at Mrs. Holdsworth?" Louisa asked trying to keep up with her fathers brisk steps.

"Yes, I am," he answered curtly, "Where is your coat?" The girl pointed at her hanger and he crouched in front of her helping her in the red coat.

"Are you mad at me?" she then asked and he met her dark eyes.

"Yes, I am," he replied while buttoning the coat up and winding a white scarf around her neck. He was mad at that awful woman and at his daughter, but most of all at himself. He hated how right Mrs. Holdsworth, how much her words got to him. He couldn't do it alone. He could not combine his daughter and his job without help. Since he had let go of Izzy things had not become easier and he felt as if he was juggling a donkey, a banana and, burning torch all the while balancing on top of a cat sitting on top of an unicycle, standing on the edge of a sky scraper and all this while trying to keep fifty hula hoops spinning around his waist . It was an impossible balancing act and he realized that he needed help. Fulltime help. Someone to track Louisa's every movement when he was unable to do so.

"I'm sorry, daddy," Louisa mumbled her gaze fixed on her shoes. Logan sighed.

"I know you are, but that doesn't make it alright. You need to learn that what you do has consequences so we will have to discuss your punishment at home."

"But…" she started as he got up and took her hand.

"No buts," he declared starting to walk towards the doors of the building, feeling slightly more in control.

* * *

"You are seriously leaving?" Rory asked leaning against the doorframe of Peter's bedroom. He looked up, his green eyes meeting Rory's blue ones in an apologetic manner.

"I have to. I am sorry," he sighed, "Please come with me." He left the bag he was packing for what it was and came to stand in front of her putting his arms around her.

"Pretty please? We can get a nice room, order room service…What do you say?" He kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Then I say, that I have to work tomorrow…" She sighed walking around him and sitting down on the bed.

"I will make it up to you. I promise, Rory. We will have an anniversary weekend." Rory smiled slightly at his words but was unable to conceal her disappointment. It was their anniversary. A day that should stand on its own, without interruptions and work visits.

"Don't be sad, baby, please?" Peter touched her cheek, "I have something for you." He then bolted around the bed and pulled out a rectangular box from the bedside table drawer.

"Happy anniversary," he said handing it to her and kissed her on the lips before his eyes darted to the clock that told him it was a quarter to 7.

Rory opened the box and stroked the white and yellow gold drop necklace, little diamonds sparkling in the hearts adorning it. It was beautiful and she looked up to him with a smile.

"This is so beautiful," she smiled getting off the bed and kissing him, "Thank you. I love it. Your gift is still at my place."

"That's ok. Give it to me on that fabulous anniversary weekend we are going to have. I have to run now, babe. I will call you, ok?" She nodded and watched him picking up his bag.

"You will be at home?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'm going to call Steph. We might go out."

"Alright, I love you." he smiled kissing her one last time.

"Love you too. Have a safe flight."

And he was gone. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed picking up her phone and dialling Stephanie's number. Then she clasped it shut and sat down on the couch. With another sigh she opened it again and dialled another number.

"_Huntzberger." _Rory smiled at his seemingly occupied answer he offered her.

"Is that how we greet friends?" she asked playing with a loose thread on the couch.

"_Ace! I'm just – one sec." _She heard rustling and something falling, an annoyed 'argh!' and Louisa's giggle. _"Can you pick that up, Lou? I'm on the phone—Yes, hey, sorry. We are cooking. It is a massacre." _She chuckled then fell silent.

"_Ace, you there? What are you even doing calling me? Don't you have scandalously lots of seeee-lling cookies to do?"_

"Nice safe," she laughed then her smile faltered, "and apparently I don't. Peter just left to a symposium to Denver. So I am all alone."

"_I see…" _he sighed, _"So now I have to sell cookies with you?" _

"Logan!" she laughed, "Can you be even more nasty?"

"_Hey it is my job to offer," _he chuckled_, "Yours to decline."_

"_I want to sell cookies too!" _Louisa yelled in the background.

"_Let's not go there…"_ Logan replied, causing her to laugh again, _"You stir that sauce. Stir it, Pinky! Don't prod in it." _

"Sorry for calling, I'm ruining your night in with Lou," she then sighed sadly.

"_Nonsense. Are you ok, Ace? Seriously now? I'm sorry he left. He shouldn't have."_

"He asked me to come with him and I said no… Why did I say no? I told him I had to work…and I can simply take a day off." She buried her face in the pillows on the couch in frustration. It was his turn to sigh.

"_I can't answer that for you, Ace."_

"I know… I just…hate being alone here tonight," she groaned.

"_Do you want to come over?"_

"Great now I'm inviting myself," she deadpanned.

"_Newsflash, Ace… I have invited you earlier today. Besides if there is one person who can invite herself as often as she pleases, it's you and there doesn't have to be a reason. You will never be kicked out. Got it?"_

She pondered his words and smiled.

"_Ace?"_

"Got it."

"_So… get your ass in a cab. Dinner is done in 20 minutes. That is IF there will be no casualties."_

"I'm curious. I'll see you in a bit then?"

"_Yes. Get going! Now! Shoo."_

"I'm getting, I'm going…and Logan?" she bit her lip.

"_Yeeees?" _

"Thank you."

"_Anytime, Ace," _he sighed.

* * *

"Prepare to be amazed," Logan announced holding a steaming bowl in his hands, "This is the finest cuisine you will ever see." He planted it on the table and Rory let out a laugh at the spaghetti and meatballs.

"Mmm…looks good."

"It was cooked with a lot of soul and love and effort, so you better mean that." He shot her a glare and she crossed her heart.

"Me first! Me first!" Lou shouted and got shushed by Logan who took her plate and put a mountain of spaghetti on it. He was about to set it in front of her when she demanded more.

"First finish this. Then we'll see how capable you are of consuming more. And sit normally," he sighed as Louisa wobbled the chair with her knees pressed against the table rim, "Lou, I won't repeat myself. Sit down like a normal human being."

With a giggle she obeyed and grabbed her fork literally burying it in the pile of food on her plate. Logan rolled his eyes as she stuffed her mouth full and slurped the noodles that were left hanging into her mouth, resulting in half her face being covered in tomato sauce.

"You are such a piglet," he sighed setting the plate for Rory and lastly for himself.

"I haven't had spaghetti and meatballs in ages," Rory hummed savouring the taste of a dish she had loved as a child.

"It's my favourite," Lou exclaimed before picking up a strand of pasta with her fingers and letting it down into her mouth.

"So I see," Rory chuckled.

"Lou! You are ruining my appetite," Logan groaned in annoyance, something Rory could not resist of milking. She too picked up a strand of spaghetti and sucked it into her mouth producing all the necessary sounds to make him raise his eyebrows and Louisa to start laughing.

"I'm surrounded by adults here, aren't I," he sighed taking another bite.

"Don't be such an old man," Rory chuckled wiping her mouth and got an amused glare in return. It felt so strange to observe Logan Huntzberger, party boy extraordinaire, in such a homey environment, having dinner with his daughter in the most basic but lovable way. It was such a simple bubble, eating spaghetti and meatballs, laughing, joking. For a moment it made her forget the fact that it was her anniversary, that her boyfriend was in Denver and that she had felt mighty lonely only moments ago.

* * *

"Oh my, I don't think I can move…" Rory moaned as she let herself plop on the couch and rubbed her belly that now was protruding with spaghetti. She was sincerely contemplating popping the button of her jeans. She could barely breathe.

"Well good thing that you don't have to move for what I have in store." Logan's voice sounded distant and she heard him rummaging through drawers before he joined her on the couch with a pile of papers.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Applications," he answered as if that one word in itself was explanatory enough.

"I need to apply to be hung over on food?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"No, Ace, you are privileged in that department." He patted her stomach and she let out a displeased grunt getting rid of his hand.

"So what are we applying for?" she then asked.

"_**We **_are not applying for anything. It's applications from nanny's for Lou since I decided to participate in this international au pair programme and they sent me a bunch of applications. So now we are going to weed trough them." He handed her half of the pile and she took it from him with a quizzically raised eyebrow still in place.

"Nanny. Lou. Pick one," he summarized refilling her glass of wine and handing it to her.

"You are trying to kill me, aren't you," she deadpanned, yet took the glass from him with a humph.

"Polina from Russia," he read the first application, "Twenty years old. Studies paleogeography at the university of Moscow. What the hell is that? Speaks only Russian. Loves: children, dogs and from the look of the picture…vodka. _Njet. _Next."

Rory burst out in laughter only barely preventing herself from spitting out her wine.

"Stop!" she whined in between giggles, "You have no idea what a hard time I'm having. I'm in pain, on the verge of exploding. No strenuous activity or you _**will**_ see your friend splattered all over those beautiful white walls of yours."

"Annika from the Netherlands," he wiggled his eyebrows, "Also twenty years old. Lives in…oh sweet lord, how to pronounce this 's Gra- graven –hage, poor girl. Works at a Coffee shop called the "Flying Dutchman"…"

"Ooh! Coffee! Let's take her!"

"Yeah, hmm Rory. Coffee shops in the Netherlands don't exactly sell that."

"What?"

"I think the flying Dutchman is a metaphor… and not one for an exhilarating caffeine buzz."

She looked at him puzzled.

"They sell weed, Ace," Logan grinned and started laughing when she still looked at him in utter concentration trying to grasp what he was saying.

"Marihuana, dear."

"How do you know that?" He gave her an entertained glare and she rolled her eyes.

"Of course…" She watched him putting the application on top of the Russian one, "Colin will be disappointed."

"Well it's a good thing then, that we are not hiring a nanny for him although he probably needs one," Logan grinned.

"What about this one," Rory started taking another sip of wine and reading up the application, "Sevda from Azerbaijan. Twenty three . Plays the balaban and the tutek in a Azerbaijani folklore band and her dream is to come to America to perform during Super Bowl."

"Azerbaijani folk music is greatly underappreciated," Logan responded, "Put her on the maybe pile."

"What?" She raised her eyebrows and nudged him with her elbow after seeing the cheeky glimmer in his eye, "What kind of organization did you get these from?" she asked after reading another colourful description of a potential candidate.

"I'm starting to wonder that myself. Listen to this: Devon from good ol' Blighty. Acclaimed student at the London School of Beauty and Make-Up. Major Idol: Celine Dion. Has been a contestant on _"Britain's Got Talent" _with a belly-dancing act accompanied by Celine Dion's "My heart will go on". Surprisingly has not gotten through to the next round." A silence set in and they looked at each other with solemn faces before a wave of uncontrollable laughter made them clutch their sides.

"Oh God," Logan breathed with an after-snicker, "we so need a break. Coffee?"

"Oh yes, please," Rory groaned pulling her feet up on the couch.

"I'm going to send Lou to bed, you put the coffee on?" He asked disappearing into the hallway.

"What about the "thy-shall-not-have-to-move part??" She whined getting up and started padding towards the kitchen.

* * *

"It's bedtime, Lou," Logan said leaning against the doorframe of the lilac room. The girl closed her colouring book without any protest and bounced up to him. He was surprised to say the least. Usually he had to chase her for a good half hour and the wrestle her into her pj's and then into bed. Keeping her there was yet another task he was glad was taken care of by Izzy. After he came home from work he rarely had the energy.

"Can I watch TV in bed?" she asked with her bambi-eyes on full display.

"No," he simply said.

"But, daddy…"

"Louisa, I love you and if I can say that after how you behaved today, you can bet your butt on it that it will never ever change, but sweetie, we have agreed that there won't be TV for two weeks and there won't be. If it is the last thing I do. Get in your jammies now."

Lou pouted and he braced himself for a whine-a-thon. It didn't come, however, as she grabbed her Barbie nightgown and went into the bathroom.

He sat down on her bed with a sigh and pulled a book from under him. _"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" _it said on the cover. His fingers skimmed through it as he heard Lou turning off the faucet. Soon she hopped on the bed and he enveloped her in the covers.

"Will you read for me?" she asked and he was about say he wasn't when something stopped him and he nodded.

"For a bit." He smiled as she cuddled up against him, prodding her head under his arm as to see the pictures in the book.

"Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do…" He started.

"… once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it," Louisa continued, her little finger tracing the line she was reading.

"'And what is the use of a book', thought Alice, 'without pictures or conversation?'" He smiled as she picked up the following line and realised they were doing far too little of this.

* * *

Peter sighed and glanced once more at the board informing him that his flight was delayed for another hour. He groaned. What the hell was he doing? He had been sitting at this godforsaken airport for hours at an end now on his second anniversary with his girlfriend he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, for what? Just to wait an hour longer on a plane to Denver to attend a symposium on orthopaedics. He had to be out of his mind. Sure he was looking to broaden his speciality, but feet? Over his girlfriend? He got up from the chair, grabbed his bag and strode out of the departure hall.

Her apartment was dark when he arrived. She was probably still at Stephanie's. That gave him the perfect opportunity to spruce this place up. He set down the bags of candles, champagne and flowers and took off his coat. With a whistle he made his way into her bedroom.

* * *

Rory had finished her second mug of coffee and settled on a movie she had not previously seen yet after flipping through some 50 channels, yet there was not a sign of Logan and she wondered where he had disappeared to. He had said, he was going to put Louisa to bed and she felt childish for getting impatient but could not stop herself from going on a little expedition. On her toes she made her way through the vast apartment, till a room with soft light pouring out of it caught her attention. As quietly as possible she made her way to the door opening and smiled at the sight of Logan putting away a book and carefully lifting four tiny limbs off of him. He pushed the sleeping Louisa to the middle of the bed and tucking the flower-patterned covers tightly around her, then kissed her head and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. He saw her standing in the doorway and mouthed a "sorry" to which she shook her head. She stood back as he killed the lights, only leaving a night light casting stars on the ceiling and closed the door behind him.

"Sorry," she whispered as they started walking back towards the living room, "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Nah," he smirked, "I didn't mean to stay away that long. So it is I who should be sorry."

"It was very cutsie, watching you two," she snickered and earned a glare.

"Cutsie? Please, Ace. What will that do to my rep?"

"I think that after: _"Logan Huntzberger dining with spaghetti and meatballs"_ has graced the headlines…there is nothing much that can affect your rep further." He pinched her side and she yelped letting herself fall on the couch.

"What are you watching?" he asked fixing his eyes on the TV.

"A movie. _"Love Actually". _Haven't seen it yet. We can change the channel if you want to watch something else," she offered.

"No no, it's fine. Just…catch me up here. Why is Hugh Grant shaking his ass exactly?"

"He is the Prime Minister," she explained.

"Ah… makes sense."

* * *

Peter sighed and sat down on the bed crushing the rose petals doing so. She was not going to come home. A few months ago he would have been sure she was in Stars Hollow or at Stephanie's. Now however he had a nagging feeling that she was with _**him. **_He looked around the room. The candles, the music, the flowers. All for nothing. His eye caught a picture on the brick wall. He got up and examined it from close. Rory in her graduation gown smiling brightly, Logan wearing what he assumed was her cap. His eyes darted to the pictures above it. Lorelai, Emily, and Richard. Finn in the nude with only a frying pan covering his genitals, Colin and Rory re-enacting Titanic in a rowing boat, Rory caught in the midst of a shout of laughter as Colin struggles to get up out of the dirty pond as the re-enactment takes a turn for the worst. He saw pictures of Stars Hollow, of Lane and of Rory. He involuntary smiled at a series of silly pictures of Rory and Stephanie in a photo booth. Lastly his eyes fixed on a beach. He ignored the hairy foot sticking out in the corner of the picture but zoomed in on the two people on shore. It was unmistakably Rory clad in a polka-dot-bikini, her hair in pigtails and heart shaped sunglasses on her nose, who was getting a piggyback ride from no one less than Logan Huntzberger. He realized that there was a whole other side of her. One that appeared whenever Logan Huntzberger appeared. One that he till now had not seen and he wondered whether he knew her at all. For a moment he cursed his demanding residency; the long days and often nights, double shifts that robbed him of time with her. He cursed Logan Huntzberger and his perfectly muddled hair and his ability to always be there when he wasn't, he cursed Rory for substituting him so quickly. He cursed this bed, empty and the nasty feeling that she might be in his. He shook it off. Rory wouldn't do that. Then _**why **_was he unable to shake that feeling? With a sigh he got up and blew out the first candle.

* * *

Logan suppressed a yawn as the closing credits slowly rolled over the screen. He rubbed his eyes but couldn't rid the feeling of sandpaper.

"I think it's time to call it a night," he sighed turning to Rory.

She had apparently reached that conclusion long ago without informing him. Her head was resting on the backrest, her eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly through her slightly parted lips, the applications still clenched in her hand.

The corner of his mouth curled up as he freed the papers from her hand tossing them on the coffee table.

"Ace?" he said, softly touching her shoulder, "Let's go to bed."

"Mhm…," she whinged.

He moved slightly, what resulted in the loss of support his shoulder offered to hers and she slouched over him. He caught her head just before it hit his knee. Her body shifted as she installed herself more comfortably, her face still resting in his hand.

Despite his tiredness Logan had trouble containing his laughter. He doubted whether she would wake up if someone dropped a bomb in her bedroom. As carefully as possible he tried to pull his hand from under her head, propping up her face with his other. Just as he freed it she got a hold of the other hand. Her fingers closed around his wrist and she snuggled up against it. With an amused eye roll he gave up pulling a woollen blanket over her sleeping form and put his feet up on the coffee table, making himself as comfortable as one could sitting on a couch with a woman in his lap. He closed his eyes

"Logan?" he heard her sleepy voice and opened them again gazing in to space.

"Yeah?"

"Did they get together in the end?"

He smirked.

"Yeah, Ace… they did. Night."

"Night," she replied letting go of his wrist and entwining their fingers instead. He closed his eyes once more, surrendering to the sleep capturing his exhausted mind.

TBC…

* * *

**A/N: I just realized that there is a loooot of dialogue in this chapter. Sorry for that. Hope you enjoyed it nontheless. Please review! Cheers! Eva. **


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hello one and all! Here am I with another belated update. I am terribly sorry, it took me longer than expected. I thank you all for your positive reviews :) Enjoy and please leave a review! :) **

**Eva. **

**Disclaimer: **Do not own Gilmore Girls.

**Chapter 8**

"_**Monday, Manic Monday"**_

* * *

Rory Gilmore hated mornings. Especially Monday mornings. Those she hated with a passion. As also this particular Monday morning in December. The alarm clock suffered a painful blow on it's snooze button and a muffled grunt broke through layers and layers of comforters and blankets. She had been cold the previous night. The heating decided it was the most tactful moment of the year to expire and leave her sitting in a space with a temperature below 59 degrees. In order to prevent her nose from turning into a popsicle she and two hot water bottles had cuddled up under several thick comforters and (unfortunately) survived this night. Rory opened one eye and looked at the clock. 6.30 a.m.. And for what? For the lovely fact that she could drag herself to work where she spent all day yelling at people only to get yelled at herself for not yelling enough at the people and doing a crappy job by her boss. A crazy limbo that paid the bills, yet for some reason didn't offer the fulfilment she had envisioned years ago. She could almost hit herself for the naivety she had possessed in those days. With a last grunt she threw the covers off of her and yelped as her eyes popped open from the cold that hit her skin. Why hadn't she gone to Peter's place? _Fool! Fool! Fool! _She ran into the bathroom and turned the hot faucet of her shower to its maximum capacity. _Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up! _

"Come on!" she yelled in exasperation when the shower didn't seem to read her mind. She _really _needed to find herself a new place. This was just too much. She was living in the heart of New York and yet the jungle seemed to have better facilities than this apartment building. She held her hand under the streaming water to see whether it was warming up at all and moaned when the answer was negative. She not only had to get up at 6.30 in the morning in a freezing apartment, she also was going to have to go to work sporting a greasy pony tail and smelly armpits. She contemplated calling in sick. If being cold, icky and hungry didn't qualify for a "stay-at-home" day, she didn't know what did and thus, for the first time in 10 years Rory Gilmore played hooky.

* * *

Logan Huntzberger skilfully tied the yellow tie around his neck into a Windsor knot and straightened his collar. With a last glance in the mirror he strode into the kitchen. It was exactly 6.33 am as he filled his mug with coffee. Sitting down at the counter he picked up the New York Times and let his eyes wander over the front page. He looked up when a sleepy seven year old zombied her way into the kitchen and sat down at the counter burying her head in her arms.

"Morning, Sunshine," he greeted and got a moan in return. With a smirk he turned the page and folded the paper into a slightly more manageable format.

"Good morning, Mr. Huntzberger." Logan acknowledged the familiarly accented greeting from Louisa's British nanny by wishing her a good morning as well.

"I thought we had agreed that you were not going to call me Mr. Huntzberger anymore, Hannah," he then smiled carefully sipping his coffee.

"I just… it's odd to call you by your first name, seeing that you are my boss _and _old…er."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Older?"

"Yes…"

"Do the 5 years of difference give me that big of a seniority?" he asked eyeing the clock. 6.45

"It's 9 actually," she corrected him.

"How do you even know that?"

"I googled you," she answered with a shrug pouring herself a mug of coffee and Louisa a glass of milk.

"You googled me," he deadpanned. She had googled him.

"Yes, and I did not have to read through the 125.000 of hits to find out that you are turning 31 in February."

He almost forgot to swallow the coffee in his mouth before his jaw dropped.

"Excuse me? 125.000 hits?" Who would have thought.

"Yeah, you have never googled yourself?"

"Should I have?"

She shrugged with al laugh and prodded his daughter.

"Drink your milk, darling."

"Can't," she grumbled instead, "I don't wanna go to school. Bruce Shafenaker picks on me."

"Who is Bruce _Shafenaker_? And what do you mean he picks on you?" Logan asked, ignoring the doorbell indicating his ride had arrived.

"He just says mean things and pulls my hair," she whined.

"Ah!" Logan smirked, "That only means he likes you."

"No, he doesn't. He is mean! He took my books and didn't give them back the whole period and then he pulled my hair and called me Loulou Schmoulou." He tried to contain his laughter. He really did, but he could not hide the snicker that fought its way through. Pulling a straight face with great difficulty, he cleared his throat.

"Believe me, sweets, once upon a time. Long long ago," he eyed Hannah who grinned at the reference, "I was a boy too and that's how we…the underdeveloped sex want to get attention. Now, I have to get going. Drink your milk, Loulou Schmoulou." He kissed her head ignoring the pained "DAAAHAAAD" leaving her mouth.

"Bye, Hannah."

"Bye, Mr. Hu- Logan." He mouthed a thank you with an superfluous hand gesture skywards causing her to roll her eyes with a laugh and left the apartment, closing the door behind him with a smile. Logan Huntzberger loved Monday mornings.

* * *

Peter Bower cursed the world and his razor in particular to hell as the blade almost sliced his throat without mercy. He fumbled with a roll of toilet paper as the cut bled profusely all over the collar of his t-shirt and groaned as the paper stuck to his damp hands. And while he was at it he cursed David Montague whose wife had recently given birth to twins and who in consequence had taken the day off, asking him to cover, indirectly contributing to this massacre in the bathroom. He yawned and splashed a hand full of water in his face. Working a double shift the day before and starting at 7 again this morning was everything but unwinding. He threw a glance at the clock. 6.30. Removing the toilet paper from his throat he inspected the cut. And here they said the "Gillette Mach 3" was the best a man could ever get. He scoffed. It could kill you in your sleep. He grabbed some fresh scrubs from his dresser and tied the cord of the green trousers. It would save him time at the hospital. Looking in the mirror he could hardly see the difference between his face pre- and post-shave and the colour of the scrubs certainly didn't flatter his complexion. He could use a vacation. A long vacation in the Bahamas, drinking Mai Tai's and enjoying the sun and his girlfriend's undivided attention, yet the reality of his demanding residency and the 300k student debt, which at the rate he was getting paid would take him three lifetimes to get paid off, was just the thing that pulled him back to the here and now. Sometimes he wondered why the hell he had chosen to become a paediatric surgeon. Why he didn't become a car mechanic like his father. Why he spent 4 years in college, then another 4 in Med school and was still not satisfied after 6 years of surgical residency. Why he started a 2 year paediatric residency. Why it had taken him 14 years to get where he was now, and why he still was not at his final destination. Why he worked 100+ hours a week, earning a shitty salary, scarifying his social life or an antisocial one for that matter. The answer was simple: Peter Bower hated mediocrity. Having seen so much of it in his life, he wanted something more. He wanted more than a mediocre job, a mediocre relationship, a mediocre existence. He wanted to become someone, something and if that meant that he had to forget about sleep for 8 years receiving shitty pay, he was going to do just that. He had to admit, however, he looked like shit. Large goals obviously came in pairs with large circles under his eyes. With a sigh he grabbed his keys and his bag. Off to another 18 hour shift and the joy of half hour breaks consuming crappy hospital food. At times mediocrity didn't seem that bad. He pulled open the door and was surprised to see Rory on the other side.

"Rory! Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Hey," she smiled her hands deep in the pockets of her coat. He raised an eyebrow seeing that she was dressed in sweatpants that were stuffed in a pair of Uggs.

"Are you going to work dressed like this?" he asked.

"Nope!" She strode past him, planting a kiss on his lips in the process, "I am staying here. I am going to take a loooong hot shower and then cuddle up in bed with half of your fridge's contents and watch TV."

"Alright…" he drawled closing the door again and following her, "Did I miss something? Last time I checked it was Monday."

"Yep. Yep." She undid her coat and removed the silly red hat off her head.

"What about work? You don't look sick. Crazy…but not sick."

"Well… there is no heat in my apartment, no hot water either. I am feeling icky and cold and hungry and I was never going to make it on time anyway if I were going to come here to take a shower so…I called in sick." She explained kicking one boot through the living room.

Peter raised his eyebrows. This was very un-Rory like and yet he had no time to question her further.

"Ehm…alright. You pig out on the couch then, I'm off to work. Be back around 9 will you be here? We can order some dinner. Or you could cook something, seeing that you are just staying home anyway."

Now it was she who cocked an eyebrow.

"_Cook_? As in use kitchen utensils? _Knives_? And the stove? Touch raw chicken?"

"Fine! Fine!" he laughed, "Don't cook. You'll burn down the place. We'll just order in." He pecked her smirking lips and ran out the door with more reluctance than usual. At the moment a day of mediocrity sounded like music to his ears.

* * *

Rory Gilmore sighed. She flipped through the channels without paying much attention. She had been through all of them 3 times now and flipping through them a 4th time in 15 minutes was not going to change a lot in the programming. Playing hooky was way less fun than it sounded and it had started out so promising. She had taken a long hot shower, made herself pop tarts (since Peter's fridge had lacked anything else appealing) and a pot of coffee, read the paper and solved the crossword puzzle. She had watched an Oprah rerun, the news on CPAN and had caught an episode of the "Days of our Lives". She had cut her toenails and alphabetized Peter's CD and DVD collections. She had read a Cosmo after taking a wonderful nap. And now it was noon, and she was out of activities, out of food and out of shows to watch. Rory Gilmore was bored.

She hid her face in the pillows and groaned. God was punishing her. He was reprimanding her with boredom. Stretching her arm she attempted to lure the phone in to her grip, but it was just out of reach. She moved an inch in its way and prodded it with her fingertips till it was possible to grasp it, then proceeding to punch some numbers and waited as the phone rung. A happy voice filled her ear.

"_Hello, darling!"_

"Stephanie! Care to grab some lunch with me? We haven't seen each other in a while."

"_I'd love to! But…I'm in Dubai at the moment."_

"Dubai," Rory deadpanned. _Rats._

"_Yes, art stuff. You know. Sheik wants painting. Stephanie provides painting to Sheik."_ She chirped, _"Everything okay with you?"_

"I'm fine, Steph, just… bored," Rory chuckled, "I took a day off for no apparent reason and I thought that playing hooky would be more fun."

"_My, my…Rory Gilmore! I am shocked!" _Stephanie laughed, _"How is Logan?"_

"I don't know actually. Haven't seen him in over a week. Have been swamped at work."

"_Oh well…no news is good news I suppose. Listen hon, I have to run."_

"Art stuff?" Rory smiled.

"_Yeah, art stuff. I shall call you when I'm back. Take care, darling!" _

"Bye." Another sigh echoed through the room as Stephanie hung up and she tossed the phone on the foot end of the bed. She eyed the clock. 12.09. Time just wasn't moving. With a groan she got out of bed and pulled up the wide sweatpants that were in great danger of falling off her butt. Maybe some fresh air would do her good. Holding that thought she put on her Uggs, her coat and her hat and closed the door behind her.

* * *

"I understand…I understand….I understand…" Logan Huntzberger rolled his eyes transferring the phone to his other ear and leafing through the latest circulation report, "I understand." Truth was he had stopped listening 15 minutes ago, yet years of conversations like these had trained him to provide the right standard answer at the right interval. "Right…I shall get someone on that….Yes, I understand." He looked up when Fanny stuck her head through the door and he motioned for her to come in. "I understand"

"There is someone here to see you, Sir," Fanny said softly simultaneously placing several reports on his desk.

"Uhu I understand."

"_Who"_ he then mouthed.

"One Rory Gilmore. She doesn't have an appointment. Should I send her away?"

"I understand." He shook his head and gestured for her to come in, "That would be unfortunate. I assure you all is going to be taken care of…Yes….Yes… I understand…Right away… Yes….Goodbye." He flung the receiver in its place and let out a deep sigh.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Ace?" he then asked with a grin when Rory walked in to the room sporting a red hat and matching nose, "You look very…casual…on a Monday."

"Hey," she greeted him pulling the hat off her head and releasing an avalanche of messy curls, "I came to personally invite you to the annual Stars Hollow pre-Christmas dinner."

"I see," he smirked leaning back in his chair. Somehow that did not feel as the real reason of her visit.

"Plus I was bored." Ah, there it was. Although, Rory Gilmore bored on a Monday afternoon seemed slightly out of place.

"Bored?" he thus echoed.

"Yes. I am playing hooky," she said and actually blushed at the statement causing him to laugh.

"Bad ass Rory," he winked, "Want to grab some lunch?"

"I'm not disturbing?"

He gave her a once over, raising his eyebrows at her oversized sweatpants, unflattering Uggs and a coat that made her look like the Michelin man.

"Maybe a little…"

She scoffed pulling the hat back over her head.

"Funny. For your information. It's cold. Not only outside but also in my apartment."

"Your heat broke again?" He asked getting up and getting his coat from the closet.

"No I turned up the air-conditioning. Yes, the heat broke." She grumbled. He was getting more bemused by the second and at the same time he couldn't help the feeling that something was bugging her beyond the inconvenience of broken heating.

"When are you going to move out of that dump you live in?"

"Excuuuuse me, Mister "Million dollar loft", not everyone has the luxury to live in a castle Midtown Manhattan.

"Upper East Side," he corrected and earned a swat.

"Shut up."

* * *

"So good," Rory Gilmore hummed biting an immense chunk out of her roast beef sandwich, "Take that stupid restaurant that wouldn't let me in because I was not adequately dressed. Puh! In your face! Yummy!" She wobbled on the Central Park bench gratefully chewing her "Subway" meal and trying to stay warm at the same time. She glanced at Logan who took a bite from his sandwich. His cheeks were rosy, but other than that he didn't seem very much undone by the cold. He stretched his legs lazily and pulled the collar of his coat up.

"How is work?" he asked and Rory shrugged. Work was work. Work was something she did not miss today.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah, fine." She took another bite and steered her gaze towards the snow clad path and a woman walking 2 dogs.

"Huh." She turned to face him again, squinting her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

"What's with the "huh" then?" He was implying something and she was not sure she like what it was.

"It was just a "huh"." He shrugged.

"It doesn't seem that it was just a "huh"." Who was he trying to fool here?

"And yet it was only a random "huh". He defended himself, brushing the crumbs off of his coat.

"It was not-"

"Rory, you are starting to sound like my daughter. If you don't want to talk about what's bugging you don't turn this on me," he cut her off .

"What is that supposed to mean?" she scoffed.

"Exactly what I'm saying."

"I'm happy at my job!"

"Good."

"I am!" She shouted, her sandwich forgotten. The judgement in his eyes made her mad.

"If you say so!"

"And you have no right to judge me or my job! It's a good job with lots of opportunities! And I like it!"

"And yet here you are. Slouching about. Doesn't look like you like it there that much. And it didn't seem like you were liking it when you were talking about killing yourself before the last edition, or when you were telling people off. Or like today…dreading to go there. It's not you, Ace. You have _so _much to offer and you are wasting your time there. What are you doing? Why are you doing that? You should be out and about. You should be writing Pullizer worthy articles, not i-dotting and t-crossing other people's stuff. You are not good at it. Sure the YDN was a nice hobby, but this is a whole other deal, a whole other league."

She was silent for a moment, trying to grasp what had just left her best friend's mouth. Truth was she could not believe it. He had flat out said she sucked at her job and that caused a dull pain and a rising anger to creep into her.

"Nice, Huntzberger. Really nice. Very _"Huntzberger" _of you," she used air quotes.

"Don't go there, Ace. I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm saying this to help you," he reasoned.

"Don't "Ace" me! Nice help you are! My best friend telling me that I am bad at my job," she spat getting up from the bench. She was not going to sit her and let him insult her even more.

"I am only insinuating that you could be so much better if you actually did where your heart lays, what you studied for and dreamt of! _As _your best friend I refuse to lie to you."

"As a best friend you should support me!" she yelled, "As I have done with you over the years!" She swallowed back tears.

"Rory—"

"No! Let's criticize aspects of your life. Have you followed your dreams? Have you even dared to have dreams?! You just floated into your "destiny" like a stick down the river! You are your father's puppet and you dare telling me that I am not good at my job? At least I made it to the point where I am on my own! I have outgrown the illusions about life. As should you. You are the one sitting there unable to move on. Unable to break free from your father or from your dead wife!" She yelled unable to stop the emotion she felt turning into words.

"Are you finished?" His jaw was clenched as he looked at her. He eyes were not concealing the fact that she had hurt him. Rory swallowed, little clouds escaping her parted lips as her heart pounded in her chest. She watched, as if paralyzed, how Logan drew in a shaky breath, got up and walked away, his shoes making a crunching sound in the fresh snow. With fortitude she did the same, forcing her feet to move in the opposite direction.

* * *

His appetite was gone. In fact he felt nauseous. Inhaling the crisp winter air deep into his lungs and making his way through the crowded streets at a rapid steady pace, he attempted to regain control over his state of mind, the anger and the ache. The office building doomed up in front of him too soon and he dreaded walking in there. For a while he just stood there, fists clenched, eyes closed.

"Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and looked into a set of green eyes, embedded in a flushed face, that was surrounded in sandy blonde locks.

"I'm fine," he answered curtly, compelling his feet to move inside. He stopped in front of the elevators and pressed the button, as a set of heels halted their staccato on the marble floor just beside him. The doors slid open and he stepped inside followed by the woman.

"Which floor?" he asked.

"42," she smiled. He pressed the button and the doors closed.

His fingers drummed against his leg as the elevator inched upwards at a snail's pace. Finally it pinged and they got out. He strode towards his office and the woman towards the front desk. He could just make out the words "appointment" and "Huntzberger" leaving her mouth and groaned passing Fanny's desk without much reply towards her greeting. He flung his coat in the corner of his office and let himself fall in his chair, burying his head – that now seemed to weigh so heavily- in his hands.

"Mister Huntzberger? Your 2 p.m. appointment is here," Fanny said and he nodded.

"Can I get you something? You look pale." An almost motherly concern was written over her kind face.

Logan shook his head with a small smile.

"No thank you, send her in."

"Oh, coincidence," the woman smiled entering his office.

"Natasha McCarthy," she introduced herself offering him her hand, which he shook with a slight resentment.

"Logan Huntzberger. Please, sit down." He motioned towards one of the arm chairs facing his desk, "Would you like some coffee, tea?"

"Tea would be lovely."

He had barely opened his mouth when Fanny nodded and closed the door behind her.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. McCarthy?"

"It's Ms. actually and please, call me Natasha. There is too much formality going on."

He pulled the corner of his mouth up in a polite smile and nodded.

"This won't take long. I am only here to review to circulation reports with you."

"I'm sorry?" For a moment he was confused. Who was this woman?

"I work for your father," she explained with a laugh, "He sent me here to look at the circulation reports."

"Oh right right, I'm sorry. This has been one… straining Monday."

"And it's only 2 p.m."

"Oh yeah," he sighed pulling a bunch of files from one of the drawers of the mahogany desk. "These are the one's from the last quarter and the one from the previous 2 and…" he leafed through the papers, "this is what the system analyst and I have come up with regarding the budget. I highlighted the things that can be omitted, without us having to lose personnel. It's below what Mitchum expects so if he starts bitching about it…"

She laughed.

"I get the picture. Thanks." He watched as Natasha put the pile in her briefcase, and fished out a form and a pen.

"Then I only need your signature."

He scribbled down his name just as Fanny entered the office carrying a tray with a tea pot and two mugs and a plate of cookies.

"Thank you, Fanny," Logan smiled. The door closed again separating the two of them from the rest of the ant hill.

"Well, I shall not keep you longer," Natasha said, "You are having a bad day as it is. I shall survive without tea." She got up and so did he and before he knew it – Rory's words swarming in his head over and over again- he had lifted up the tea pot and uttered three words he really didn't want to be uttering, just to prove her wrong: "No, please stay."

Natasha raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am. My next appointment is in 20 minutes, so you can have your cup of tea. I shall have one too." He poured the golden liquid in the two mugs and sat back down.

"If you insist," she smiled sitting down as well.

"I do."

* * *

Rory was barely inside her boyfriend's apartment as a sob escaped her lips, followed by another one, and another one till she couldn't control them anymore and got stuck in an irrepressible limbo of tears. It hurt how right he was, how dead on right. It hurt to be shoved face forward in a pile of facts she had been denying for so long now that she had come to believe her own pretence. It hurt so bad that she had to do something to inflict some of that pain back, even if it meant to throw a punch below the belt. She felt horrible and fake. She felt like a lost child standing all alone in the masses of people on Times Square. She hated that he was right, she hated that even while being incredibly angry at him, she was even more so angry with herself. She, Rory Gilmore, was 28 years old, and what was left of her dreams was one massive disappointment.

A good cry later she felt numb. She sat on the couch and plucked at the fringe of the blanket not bothering to turn on the lights as the early December darkness set in. She turned her head when the sound of a key being put in a lock seemed to echo through the apartment. A trivial sound, amplified to something it was not.

"Rory?" Peter called out closing the door and for a moment she didn't reply listening to the rustling of fabric as he took off his jacket.

"You here?" He turned on the light and raised his eyebrows at the sight of her tearstained face.

"What happened?" A new lump formed in her throat and new tears, defying the idea that she had shed them all, started rolling down her cheeks. He was on the couch instantly and pulled her in a hug.

"What happened, Rory?"

"I suck at my job!" She blubbered.

"You what? Why?"

"We had a fight and he is right. I do. I suck at my job, " she cried.

"Who had a fight and stop saying that. You do not suck at your job," he ensured her stroking her hair.

"Logan and I," she sobbed, "We had a fight."

"And he said you suck at your job?" he asked not hiding his surprise, "Sweetheart, the man is an idiot then. You are great at your job."

"No, I suck. And I hate it."

"You don't suck. Stop it, Rory!"

"I can't remember the last time I wrote something, the last time I woke up with the feeling that I wanted to go to work. I hate it. I hate my boss, I hate being like my boss towards the people who work for me and that's what I am, a shrew most of the time."

"You're a copy editor Rory, at 28 you are a copy editor at one of the most prominent papers in the city. How many people can say that? You are _great _at your job, otherwise you wouldn't have it. I'm sure there are at least a dozen people dying to get that position."

Rory wiped her cheeks.

"That's just it, Peter, I'm not dying to have it. I don't want it and I know it is stupid not to, irrational, and yet I don't."

"You're upset. You need a good night's sleep and then you will see everything in a different light in the morning," he tried to reason. Yet, Rory knew that she wouldn't see everything in a different light. Her black and white TV would not turn in to a smashing colour flat screen all of a sudden. She knew that for a fact, because she had been telling herself she would see everything in another light the next morning for a year now. Day in day out. Black and white.

"I also said things to him… I said them to hurt him. And I did. And-" another sob cut her off and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"People fight, Rory. You two will work it out. Today however, you won't change anything, so what do you say," he brushed away some stray tears with his thumb, "We order in some food, and relax in front of the TV and then call it a night?"

She nodded as he pulled her in yet another tight embrace and kissed her temple, yet she could not shake the awful feeling that had nestled itself in her being that afternoon.

* * *

Rory Gilmore eyed the clock. The red digits shone brightly and indicated that it was 3.46 a.m.. Peter was laying in a deep sleep beside her and she was sitting upright in bed, unable to sleep, the bed lamp casting a scant light on the note pad in her lap. She felt calm when she clicked on the pen, she was tightly holding in her right hand and set it on paper without hesitation writing something she should have done a long time ago.

_I have appreciated the opportunities and experiences that have been provided to me during my __time at the New York Post. However, I hereby tender my resignation from my position as Copy Editor effective December 30__th__, 2012. _

* * *

TBC

* * *

**AN: So it's a slightly depressing chapter, but it's also a break through both Rory and Logan needed. To face the facts about their lives and the rut they are both stuck in. **

**Let me know what you think :) **


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